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by egrets20



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst, Blood, Chronic Illness, Fever, Fluffy, Food Issues, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Regeneration, Sickfic, Taking self therapy fic to the max, Talk of death and regeneration, Time Lord Biology (Doctor Who), Vomiting, Weight Issues, believe it or not, temporary paralysis, temporary voice loss, very sweet but will slowly be a heartbreaker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-10
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:34:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 19
Words: 23,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26393467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/egrets20/pseuds/egrets20
Summary: The Doctor has to take Donna back to Chiswick. Will she let him go on alone or will the Doctor be forced to stay on Earth?Ten Sickfic
Comments: 63
Kudos: 57





	1. Landing

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Eight years is a very long time. I’m not sure if I came out of it entirely sane. I’m sorry.

* * *

  
  
  
The Doctor had found his companion hanging about in the library, one of her favorite spaces to occupy. Donna had been skimming through the multimedia section, but had paused to give him her undivided attention.

“So Donna, what do you say to a stop back in the UK? Some good ol’ fish and chips and pop in on Wilf- and your Mum too.”

Donna furrowed her brow. “You’ve never volunteered to go back to Earth before I have. What brought this on?”

The Doctor shrugged. “Just miss it. Big blue sky, green grass, the food…”

Donna scoffed and went back to her perusing of the shelves. “Should have known that you go there for the menu. Typical. Blokes always think with their stomachs.”

“Well, I’m not certain about thinking with it. Very few species carry their brains and neural systems next to their digestive system. Gets uncomfortably warm and cramped. I admit I use my brain a lot though.” Taking her comment as acceptance, he went to go put in the coordinates.

Before he could go more than a few steps down the corridor, Donna called him back. The Doctor turned tail and lingered just outside of the doorway. He eyed her expectantly. Donna drummed her fingers against the tablet in her hands.

“How are you doing today? Throat still sore?” Her gaze raked over him as if his appearance would offer any indicators.

“Oh, that was a trifling cold.” He flapped a hand. “Over it now.” His body betrayed him by making him sniffle.

“Right,” Donna said. “Well, maybe a trip back home might do us some good then. It would give you time to recuperate.”

“Good, then we’re agreed!”

The Doctor ambled off towards the TARDIS control room. Little did he know, as he had turned his back on her, she had narrowed her eyes at him. She clutched the tablet tightly.

* * *

When the TARDIS announced that they had reached Earth, Donna was already outside of the control room. As soon as she opened the doors, the Doctor sprang up from the jump seat.

  
  
“Ah, we just entered orbit. Should start the landing sequence momentarily.” He leaned an arm against the console as he worked the controls. “Impromptu piloting lesson, Donna. See that dial on the opposite side there? That helps tweak the temporal shielding for the landing sequence. Turn it ninety degrees to the right.”

“Ninety degrees to the right,” Donna repeated.

She strode over quickly to the side where the Doctor had indicated. As she completed the task, she saw that the customary safety brake that he always pulled down for Earth landings was neglected. He seemed to be concentrating on the TARDIS’s indicators.

“I’ll just pull down the safety brake, shall I?”

He looked up, eyes wide. “Oh! Yes, you do that.”

With both of her hands occupied, Donna surveyed him again. “You look a bit peaky. Been getting enough sleep?”

“Yes, fine. Sleeping loads,” he said quickly. “Touchdown’s going to be softer. Chiswick’s experiencing a downpour.”

As the TARDIS had indicated, it was a very soggy and soft landing. The customary phasing in and out was accompanied by a thump that was less pronounced.

“Ooh!” The Doctor made a startled noise when he stepped out into the rain.

Donna gave a hiss and pulled him backwards. She held a brolly aloft over him.

“Handy!” The Doctor crowed in approval.

  
  
The Doctor took the handle from her. Being the taller of the two, he was able to keep it comfortably over their heads.

“It’s like a monsoon out here.” Donna squinted as she traversed the squishy ground. “Hang on, why did you park so far away? Was there something wrong with the controls?”

They must be nearly half a mile out from Chiswick. The Doctor glanced around and shrugged.

“Ah, one of the navigation circuits must be shorting out again. I’ll fix it when we get back. Come on.” He held out his free hand for hers. Donna clasped it, shuddering a little at his icy fingers.

They started walking. The Doctor carefully held the brolly aloft over their heads. He had slowed down his gait so that they could keep a level pace. The more they walked, the slower he became. He suddenly stopped altogether. Donna halted, peering up at him. The Doctor’s hand clasped hers tightly.

“Tell you what, why don’t you- Ah.” His speech stuttered as he seemed to struggle to find the words. He said something unprecedented. “The truth is, I have to go away for a little while. Can’t help it. There’s a sacred Time Lord ritual I have to complete. It’s very private. Can only go it alone. I should be gone for two days tops and then I’ll be back, alright?”

Donna knew instantly that he was lying through his teeth. His eyes looked suspiciously wet, so she didn’t yell at him for trying to deceive her, but she did scowl darkly.

“Oh, just telling me now, are you?”

The Doctor shuffled his feet and tilted his head down. It looked like he was tempted to make a run for it. “I have to, Donna. I tried to tell you before, but-” He choked. He scowled as he glanced away, as if furious with himself.

“Try telling me the truth.” Donna had a leaden sensation in her gut.

The Doctor’s features crumpled, looking utterly miserable. He attempted to cover his face. His breathing rasped out in a dry sob. Seeing this, Donna did not hesitate for a moment.

“Oh, Spaceman.” Donna wrapped him up in a hug.

The umbrella shook. She rubbed his back, stomach twisting into knots. She tried to project serenity and strength into her continence as she held him. She waited until he seemed to calm down enough to talk.

“What’s this all about?” She reached up to scratch the back of his head. She knew how he liked the sensation of fingernails gently raking across his scalp. He shoved his face into the crook of her neck like a terrified child. “Doctor, you’re scaring me,” she admitted.

He squeezed her again before he slowly pulled away to look her in the eyes. “I’m getting ill again, Donna. I won’t be able to take you on trips. We’ll have to stop traveling.”

“What?”

The Doctor’s features had blanched white and he reached out to clasp her hand again. It was taken with a kind of finality.

“I’m sorry it had to end like this, but we- we had a good run.” He kissed her knuckles and gave her a small smile. “But all good things come to an end, eh?” He sniffled and smiled wider, even while his eyes remained hollow and fathomless.

“Wha- stop talking like that! What are you on about?” Donna’s mouth dropped open as she studied the alien. “We’re mates. What do you mean you’re ill?”

“My people...Time Lords start developing faults down to a genetic level the closer they are to the end of their time. I’ve only got a couple of regenerations left in me. My immune system is beginning to attack my body as it grows stronger with each regeneration. The cycles of the Time Lord stem cells that allow me to change don’t just run out after thirteen cycles. My immune system is going to slowly damage my internal organs, forcing me to regenerate.” He remained smiling, even as his features trembled. “We had one last good hurrah before my next regeneration.”

Donna stared. “You’re- you’re about to regenerate?”

“Oh, I have some time left. Enough time to lose my dignity, anyway.” His gaze held a deep sort of horror as he said the words.

“Hold on- but you had a cold!” Donna exclaimed as the thought just occurred to her. “You can’t have a strong immune system if you’ve got a cold!”

He looked at her with a gleam in his eyes. “Well done, Donna.” He said it with nothing but sincerity in his tone. “Unfortunately, my fight against my immune system isn’t going well. Internal bleeding is starting up again. Oh, I’ve been able to void it to prevent sepsis- I still retain my biological gifts on some level. I’ve been taking medication to try to suppress my body’s white blood cell count. It makes traveling a bit risky lately.”

Donna was still regarding him with wide eyes.

“So you see, I need to drop you off back home.” He stared at her with a gaze that implored her to understand. “I’ll be back when the change is complete. We’ll be able to travel again and everything will be...will be...”

He seemed to realize the callousness of his own words. Donna could see his hearts breaking in his eyes.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”


	2. Nature's Shortcomings

* * *

  
  
The rain continued to drum down around them. Usually the sound would have soothed Donna, but she was anything but at ease.

  
  
“Where will you go?” She wondered what his plans were. If his body was dying then it stood to reason that there was a comfortable place where he planned to stay.

“I’ll think of something. I might stop by an intergalactic hospital first. I’ll probably end up wandering off to somewhere scenic, go somewhere I can see the stars,” he admitted.

“So, you planned to just drop me off while you went and died outside some sort of space hospital,” Donna said coldly. “Are you seeing the problem yet?”

She waited while he mulled it over. Common sense really wasn’t his strong point and she often needed to nudge him in the right direction.

  
  
“There must be some way of stopping this. I know you. You never quit,” Donna reminded him.

He exhaled, spinning the umbrella in his fist. He seemed to consciously force himself to stop fidgeting.

“This regeneration is always the hardest. It’s going to be painfully slow.” He gave a humorless laugh. “This is why my people dread reaching this stage. You become entirely dependent on your family or carers towards the end of the cycle.”

  
  
Donna asked him something that gave her qualms. “Your people don’t just speed it up then? You don’t force yourself to regenerate now before you get ill?”

He cast her a faintly amused look. “Going to slip poison into my tea, Donna?” Before she could make a remark, he filled her in. “Ah, my people have tried something like that. It’s nearly painless. It works in the short term, but not without seriously damaging my next bodies. It has to be a natural regeneration or for the rest of my lives I could go through chronic pain. This is why Time Lord families are protective of someone going through this stage.”

Donna frowned. “Then why are you trying to leave?”

“What?” He cocked his head to the side as he surveyed her. He still seemed slow on the uptake.

“You need a family,” Donna said. “To care for you. I realize that you won’t want us around all the time, which is probably why you’ll have to park the TARDIS a bit closer, but you need someone. And I’m still not convinced that we can’t reverse this thing.”

He appeared puzzled, but the suspicious gleam in his eyes told her that on some level he was beginning to understand.

“It’s going to be an end of life watch,” he reminded her. “Pre-regenerative care is hardly different from what elderly humans go through. It’s going to be messy. And frustrating.”

“Well, no change there then,” Donna said firmly.

“Seriously, I-”

“Oh, will you stop trying to talk me out of this!” Donna burst out. “You’re my mate. We’re mates. We stick together. What if I wanted to die off alone on some moon somewhere? Would you say ‘sod it, Donna needs too much help’ and shove off? I don’t think so.”

“It’s not the same-”

“It’s the ruddy same, and you know it,” Donna told him sternly.

The Doctor’s mouth dropped open as he stared at her. Donna waited, putting her hands on her hips. Finally, he seemed to reach some sort of conclusion.

“You really want me around, even if it’s certain I’ll regenerate?” He asked.

“ _Yes._ ”

“And you’re not just saying that?”

“Oh for-” She grabbed his arm and started dragging him along. “We’re going home. I’m going to make us tea and we’re going to warm up. Now, come on!”

She pulled him along after her, not caring if they were getting wet from the rain. They were going to go back and have a think about what to do. Gramps would help her, and so would Mum if she knew the seriousness of the situation.

Oh, she wasn’t naive enough to think that he wouldn’t be sprinting off the moment he thought he was being an inconvenience or some such silly notion. For all of his wits, he really was thick sometimes. She was going to get her Spaceman feeling better and then they would have a discussion.

* * *

The rapping on the door made Wilf start. He folded up his newspaper and set it aside. The knocking came again.

“Alright, hold your horses. I’m coming.” He shuffled quickly to the door.

When he threw it open, he broke into a grin. He called out his granddaughter's name and embraced her. She smiled and accepted the warm greeting.

“Doctor!” Wilf crowed with equal enthusiasm and hugged him too.

The Doctor patted him on the back. Wilf drew away to examine them both and study how they had changed. He quickly realized that he was keeping them out in the downpour.

“Come in! You’ll catch your death out there.” He pulled the two into the warmth.

The Doctor folded up their umbrella and Donna removed her coat.

“I’ll get the kettle on and go tell your mother. You two go and sit.” He waved them away as he went towards the kitchen.

Donna followed him, pausing to tell the Doctor to sit down without her. “I’ll talk to Gramps,” she whispered to him.

The Doctor seemed to pause. She gave him a gentle push towards the den.

“Everything alright, sweetheart?” Wilf asked as he found their best teakettle in the drying rack. He began to fill it up.

“Yeah, well, sort of- actually, not very,” Donna said softly. She moved forward to assist him and tell him about the situation.

* * *

The Doctor twisted his hands together in his lap. He sat on the sofa, glancing around at the knickknacks scattered on the coffee table and sideboard. He heard Donna and Wilf talking. It wasn’t right that Donna had to do the talking for him. He was the one that was intruding, but Donna had insisted on this.

  
  
He heard Sylvia come down the stairs and he swallowed. Sylvia joined the others in conversation. The Doctor did his best not to eavesdrop. He was all fidgety again. He needed to find something to take his mind off of his hosts’ discussion. He grabbed the remote and flipped through the channels. He watched some BBC News for a moment before he quickly surfed away. He came across an old cartoon. The sound effects were shrill to his ears. It was making his head buzz with a low grade headache. He clicked the television off and attempted to recline casually on the sofa.

  
  
It was only a few minutes before the door to the living room opened and Wilf stuck his head in. “Hungry, Doctor? I was going to make a bit of a fry for supper. Nothing fancy, just chicken and lots of veg from the garden. I’m going to make rice to go with it.”

The Doctor smiled. “That sounds wonderful. Thank you.”

Wilf’s gaze raked over him. “You look pale.”

He said it softly. The Doctor could see the knowledge of what Donna had told him reflected in his eyes. The Doctor would have liked to console him, but he knew that the quicker Wilf got used to seeing him unwell, the better.

The Doctor shifted in his seat. It had been a while since he had been scrutinized by a parent. Well, he supposed Jackie had done something similar, but she hadn’t looked at him like he was her responsibility.

“Do you need anything? There’s a throw blanket on the back of the sofa. I use it sometimes to nap with. Help yourself to it and if there’s anything you want, just give us a shout.”

The Doctor swallowed. Good old kind Wilf. He nodded and gave the human a smile. Wilf pulled back and shut the door.  
  


* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This is turning out fluffier than I anticipated. I just really enjoy the interaction of someone saying that they’re going to take care of Ten, and Ten being like D:


	3. Domesticity

The Doctor forgot his teacup’s saucer altogether and instead wound his hands around the cup. Donna sat next to him. She was lending him her silent moral support as they often did for each other when Sylvia was in the room.

“What I don’t understand is why you can’t go to those Torchwood people. We pay them government money for things like this. They probably have a whole hospital dedicated to this sort of thing,” Sylvia professed.

The Doctor smirked slightly. “They did have a ward, I think, but actually I’m not sure if they’re still in operation. Their leader is a friend of mine. Skilled, but always moving on.”

Good old Jack. It had been a while since he thought of dropping in on him. Well, he wasn’t about to surprise him now considering recent events.

There was a soft tap on the door as Wilf announced that supper was ready. The two Nobles started walking to the door as the Doctor moved forward to clear up their teacups. Donna halted and cast him a look.

“What are you doing? Supper’s set. You can tidy up later or I will.” She ushered him away from the dishes.

The Doctor released a silent sigh, seeing this as a domestic sit together that there was no excusing himself from. Dinner was a fairly quiet affair. The food smelled delicious, but the atmosphere was too static. He often felt their eyes on him, especially since he found that he did not have much of an appetite.

“Is it not agreeing with you? I can whip up something,” Donna offered, seeing that he had been picking at a snap pea pod with the tine of his fork.

“No! No, it’s lovely. Thank you.” He had hunched over slightly in his chair. “Thanks for this, Wilf.”

He had only attempted to eat for a few more minutes before he pulled back his chair and stood. “Well, it was wonderful seeing you all again, but I should be getting back to the TARDIS.”

There was an instant outburst of protests but surprisingly, or perhaps unsurprisingly, Sylvia was the loudest and she told him to sit back down. Donna was glaring at him. As always, Wilf was the mediary between them all.

“Please sit, Doctor. We need to tell you some things,” Wilf said softly.

The Doctor obeyed the gentle request. He exhaled, trying to straighten his posture and pay attention.

Wilf looked at him earnestly as he started giving him their consensus. “We want you to know that Donna’s going to move up to the attic. She’s always liked it up there, wanted it to be her bedroom since she was a nipper.”

Donna nodded. “I figured I can get that real squishy mattress from the TARDIS and set it up there. It’s like sleeping on a cloud.”

The Doctor squinted at them.

“I’ll give you some sheets for tonight. You can make up her old mattress for yourself,” Sylvia chimed in.

Donna was looking quite pleased with herself. “I figured we could swing by the TARDIS with the car tonight to pick up what you need and tomorrow we could go to the hospital together, that space hospital you mentioned, for whatever it was you wanted.”

The Doctor’s gaze roved at them, not knowing what to make of this. It sounded like Sylvia had been about to kick him out earlier and now they were going to give him _sheets_ and a _mattress?_ Something was up. Donna’s family didn’t look or smell like Slitheen. Of course, he would have expected this sort of thing from Donna, but getting the rest of her family on board must have taken diplomacy. He was reluctantly impressed.

“Thank you, but I can kip in the TARDIS. I don’t want to put anybody out. It’s not certain if I’m staying.”

“Oh, nonsense,” Sylvia grumbled. “That cramped little thing? I know Donna said it’s made to look smaller, but it can’t be that comfortable.”

“Mum, I keep telling you, it’s like a mansion in there,” Donna reminded her. “And you need to stick around so that I know you won’t do a runner.” She directed this comment at the Doctor. “I worked too hard to find you this time around to just lose you again.”

“You are going to lose me,” the Doctor couldn’t help but point out.

Wilf’s hands clenched and Sylvia’s lips tightened.

“Oi, don’t talk like that. You don’t know that for certain,” Donna chided him. “Let the doctors take a look at you.”

“Pretty sure,” the Doctor scoffed.

Sylvia broke in. “Hush, you. Don’t upset her.”

The Doctor blinked up at Donna’s Mum, eyes widening slightly. Very slowly, a slight smile overtook his features. “I’ll try not to.”

“Then are we all settled? Good,” Sylvia said briskly. She made to leave the kitchen but then spun back around and pointed at the Doctor. “And I expect no funny business. I know that she said you two weren’t together, but I won’t be having anything going on under my roof.”

The Doctor’s cheeks and ears heated up. He opened his mouth, but Sylvia was already leaving the room. Wilf was quietly chuckling and even the corner of Donna’s mouth was twisting up in a smirk. The Doctor exhaled.

“Looks like she let you off lightly. She must be warming up to you,” Donna said once her mother was gone.

“Must be,” the Doctor said wonderingly. An uncomfortable sensation rippling through his diaphragm stopped him from thinking overmuch about it. “Can I use your water closet?”

Donna gave him directions to the lavatory just around the corner by the hall. The Doctor entered it and shut the door with a snap. He reached up to his abdomen. He caressed the muscles there, attempting to relax them. He closed his eyes and concentrated on his finicky digestive system, trying to tame it back into working order. It hurt, and he felt his hearts’ rates pick up. It took longer than a few minutes to care for his body.

When he exited, he saw Donna and Wilf still sitting at the dining room table. The dishes had all been cleared away, but a small biscuit plate was placed close to where the Doctor had been sitting. He snatched a confectionery up and took a bite. It was vanilla with a lemon cream filling.

“Are you feeling alright? You were in there a while,” Donna noted.

The Doctor nearly choked on the biscuit. Once he had cleared his throat, he stated that he was fine. Wilf had a biscuit clasped in his hand, but he had forgone tasting it to study the Doctor.

Little did the Doctor know, he was as white as a sheet and he was starting to develop shadowed rings around his eyes. The spike in his hearts’ rates had done nothing to improve his colouring. His appearance had partly been why Sylvia had folded so easily on letting him stay. Donna and Wilf knew this, but they had surmised that the Doctor was still ignorant about his appearance and how he truly looked. They let him keep his stiff upper lip.

“Can I have the keys, Gramps?” Donna thought it best to get the short trip over with while the Doctor was still munching contentedly on his biscuit. His mouth was too full to start suggesting walking the distance.

“I think your mother left them on the mantelpiece,” Wilf told her. “Is it still raining out there?”

They peered through the windows on the other side of the room.

“Yes, but don’t worry, we’ll take the umbrella.” Donna pulled her Spaceman along with her as they went to go move the TARDIS.


	4. Garden Nausea

* * *

When they got back to the TARDIS, the Doctor didn’t enter immediately. He stood outside and rested his hand against one of her panels. Donna spoke to him, but he didn’t react as his gaze went distant. At last, he said something; It wasn’t to Donna though.

“I promise, old girl.” His voice was gruff and affectionate. He arched his neck a bit strangely and swiped his head downward until he seemed to catch on to what he was doing. “Oh, you can go in,” he told Donna. “Unless you want to drive back and meet me at the house. You won’t have to come back for the car then.”

“I think you can be trusted to pilot on your own,” Donna stated like she was baffled as to why he was even addressing her. “I’ll meet you there.”

The Doctor’s wide grin told her that she had made the right choice.

“Oh, off with you,” she said affectionately. No one could control the Doctor, not even her.

He boarded his ship again. Donna got into the car and went back to the house.

* * *

The night was mostly uneventful, though there was a minor event involving Donna showing the Doctor how to make up a bed. Apparently, he had forgotten, claiming that the TARDIS usually did it for him. It was all very domestic. Donna helped him stretch the sheet out overtop the mattress and tuck the covers securely on. The Doctor appeared winded after the preparations, so Donna asked if he had already fetched his sleepwear from the TARDIS. The Doctor seemed genuinely amused. After a quick confirmation, he shooed her away to sort out her own sleeping arrangements.

* * *

Donna woke early, the oft product of sleeping in a formerly unoccupied space. She planned to go downstairs and make breakfast for herself and possibly the Doctor. He was an early riser, due to not requiring as much sleep as humans needed. She crept down the stairs to use the lav and then down further to see what she could rustle up in the kitchen. Before she could get much further, delicious smells wafted through the air. She could hear the oven burners sizzling under a couple of skillets. She heard the click of a burner being turned off.

When she entered kitchen, she saw the Doctor leaning over the bin with an elbow propped up on the counter. He glanced up at her. Donna could see his throat working as he swallowed and coughed.

“Mn, I’m fine. I’m fine,” he murmured.

Donna approached him, frowning. “Doesn’t sound like something someone fine would say.”

He seemed to smile despite himself.

After a few concerned queries, Donna got the scoop on the Doctor’s morning activities. Apparently, he had taken it into his head that he had to pay them back for the meal, the meal he hardly ate, by cooking a bountiful breakfast for them.

“It was going to be my treat. Was going to make it down in the TARDIS, but realized that the olfactory data from it cooking was part of the breakfast experience. Humans and your...urgh...rituals.” He bent over the bin again and swallowed thickly.

“It’s making you nauseous? Here, I’ll take these off the burner...let’s go sit you outside.”

The Doctor followed her. He gave a deep inhale as soon as they were out in the open air. Donna pointed him towards the garden bench, but the Doctor had already plunked himself down amongst the tomato plants. Donna would have made a remark about getting soil all over his trousers, but the Doctor still seemed too green about the gills to care. She waited while he panted and half-reclined beside the trellises. She bit her lip and tried to think of something that would help.

“Would you like a glass of water?”

He shook his head quickly.

“It might do you good,” she pointed out. “You could be dehydrated.”

“Oh, fine,” he easily gave in.

Donna went to go fetch a glass and fill it, mulling things over. The medical center would probably be able to tell if the Doctor was dehydrated or if he just needed an antiemetic. She didn’t know what kind of medication he was on, but she knew that opioids and pain meds could cause nausea. She had learned quite a lot about that when her father had been ill.

She carried the glass out. She crouched down next to him to give him his water. He silently sipped at it, hand trembling. Donna pretended not to notice his weakness.

“Your Cucurbits are growing mold,” he said seriously after he had drained half the glass.

Donna blinked. “I’ll be sure to tell Grandad.”

She listened to him tell her about how best to protect their cucumbers and squash. Donna only half listened. She mostly noticed how tired he looked.

“Did you get any sleep last night?” She interrupted him.

He shrugged and took another swallow. “Some,” he admitted. He choked on the water and it dribbled down his chin. The Doctor hurriedly wiped at his face. Donna reached over and rubbed his back, sitting down in the garden patch with him. He gave a little hum and leaned into the touch.

“Let’s get you seen by some medical professionals soon, professionals besides yourself, that is,” Donna told him.

The Doctor seemed to preen a bit at the title she gave him. He also raised an eyebrow. “They’re just going to confirm what I’ve already told you.”

“And I suppose you’re the absolute expert in absolutely everything,” Donna snapped. She attempted to calm herself down, taking deep breaths. Getting angry wasn’t going to help. “Please, I know that you think you know best, and maybe you do, but it wouldn’t hurt to get a second opinion. Besides, maybe they’ll be able to give me a crash course in ‘taking care of stubborn Time Lords whilst preserving their egos,’ or something in PDF or pamphlet form at least.”

He gave a small smile. He shut his eyes, appearing to enjoy the sensation of gentle circles being rubbed into his back.

“Seems to me like you’re already doing a good job.” His voice was soft.

She stroked his shoulders. “Always glad for a vote of confidence.”

His rigid posture finally uncoiled. Donna paused and rested her hand on his shoulder.

“Think you can manage to eat something?”

He shrugged. “Could try a bit of egg. I was just in the middle of scrambling some. It’s in the blue bowl in there.”

“Scrambled eggs, coming right up.” Donna rose up to her feet. “I’ll be in the kitchen seeing what I can salvage. If you need anything, just give a shout.”

The Doctor grinned, eyes all twinkly.

“What?” Donna tilted her head.

“You know, you’re just like your Grandad.”

Donna smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Was he mentally nuzzling the TARDIS? Yes. Yes, he was.


	5. Confirmation

* * *

  
  
  
  
The Doctor was able to keep down a bit of egg and Donna’s family appreciated his cooking. Well, what little he had completed before his bout of nausea. The Doctor had bitten the bullet and decided to visit the hospital that he had helped found before lunch. This was a decision that had not come lightly, since his companion insisted on coming with him.

He waited outside of the TARDIS doors for Donna while knowing that he would have to face this with her. He tried to anticipate how she would react. Had she already accepted that he would regenerate and therefore it wouldn’t be too much of a shock? Rose had not taken it well. If anything, what Donna would witness would be much much worse.

The Doctor leaned up against his ship and sighed. He felt her echo brush against his presence. His TARDIS mentally peered at him and then took a step back, retreating but always remaining. It wasn’t her fault that she couldn’t meld fully with him when it was his time. Her biology was responding with all of its safeguards, protecting her and preserving her for his next body. She could comfort him like this, but they could not be as one.

The Doctor was pulled out of his melancholy thoughts by his companion opening the front door. She walked out to him and looked at him with an open gaze.

“Ready to go see some space doctors?”

It seemed that she had decided to act light and bright for him. He gave a small smile and opened the TARDIS door for her.

* * *

  
When they had gotten back to the TARDIS, Donna had been quiet and somewhat pale. The Doctor was tempted to give her a good cuppa. He was prevented from doing so by Donna announcing that she was going to her room. He watched her walk out of the control room and head towards the living quarters.

The Doctor released a silent sigh and reached out to the TARDIS again. She did the mental equivalent of holding his fingertips instead of his hand. It was enough for him.

The TARDIS finally touched down after lingering in the Time Vortex for a while. The Doctor opened the door to the outside world and contemplated going to fetch Donna.

Maybe Donna’s offer to let him stay with them had been premature. She had probably changed her mind by now and the Doctor would have to find an astral colony to spend his last days on. Just as the Doctor was mulling over his favorite views of the universe, he heard a soft shuffle of feet. He glanced up. He felt something collide hard with his upper body. He glanced down and found Donna clinging to him.

“Donna?” He carefully rested a hand on her back. Receiving no reaction, he gently rubbed circles between her shoulder blades like she had done for him this morning. “Are you alright?”

She gave a small sound that was partway between a huff and a laugh. Then she made a strangled noise before clearing her throat. “I just want you to know that you…”

The Doctor waited.

“Oh, you daft old thing, this is going to be so hard.”

She drew back and the Doctor felt his hearts sink. Was she saying goodb-

Donna quickly embraced him again, squeezing him until he swore he heard his ribs creak.

“We’re not abandoning you. We’re going to take care of you for however long you need. You’re staying in my old room and-” She seemed too overwhelmed with emotion to continue.

While the Doctor appreciated the hearty reassurance, he felt his body protest her hold.

“Donna, I’m going to need my respiratory bypass,” he wheezed.

“What? Oh.” She let go of him but switched her grip to his hand. Her hold softened. “Let’s go inside and rest for a bit. You look like you should sit down.”

Ordinarily, he would have insisted that he was fine. His hearts and digestive system reminded him that hardly anything was ordinary right now. He nodded.

The stress from the visit took its toll on him. He found that he needed something that he usually fought with all his might. He needed a nap. He tried to act as nonchalant about it as possible, but he could see the furrow in his companion’s brow when he announced that he was going upstairs for a bit.

He soon heard the murmur of Wilf talking to Donna. _Good,_ he thought, _Wilf would_ _look after_ _her._ Sylvia had gone off to her part time job. Hopefully, she would play her role for Donna once she got back.

After his ablutions, the Doctor curled up on the bed. He hugged his midriff. He left his coat on and only discarded his shoes. His body temperature was already too low. He drifted off into a troubled slumber.

* * *

The Doctor woke to the TARDIS mentally petting him. It was nice. He could sense her nearby, presence settled and dormant. She was half-slumbering in her own way. The Doctor quickly got up and went to go take care of his body. His belly was aching and his hearts and organs lurched a bit as he moved around. He felt better after shaving and using the water closet though. He reentered Donna’s old room in the quiet. He examined the space properly for the first time since he had arrived. It was very purple, like a full grown Murmathalot’s pelt.

The Doctor had asked Donna about her obsession with the colour before, but she had responded with something long winded about ‘girly colours’ and ‘what colours were acceptable to enjoy.’ He hadn’t understood it. He merely came to accept that she liked the particular way light was reflected back at her from certain objects. Now the colour reminded him of Donna...probably it always would, for better or for worse.

The Doctor went downstairs to visit his hosts. They would probably ask how he was feeling and he was prepared to give his customary “fine.” He would likely have another meal and then go out for a walk. Everything was so slow now. He found that his body needed it in a way that he detested. _Still_ , he thought as he felt the TARDIS shift sleepily and heard Donna’s voice downstairs, _he was hardly expected to get through_ _this_ _alone._


	6. Sustenance and Machines

* * *

  
  
“Oh, here he comes,” Wilf said as he descended the stairs. “Donna was just telling me about your visit again. Didn’t go like you wanted, aye?”

The Doctor glanced around, rubbing at the back of his neck. “Went pretty much as expected.”

There was silence for a moment.

“Well, I’m going to do some laundry,” Donna announced.

She got up and left the table. She shot the Doctor a brief look and the Doctor knew that she was mutely telling him to sit with her Grandad. Wilf was already pulling a chair out for him. The Doctor obediently sidled over, knowing that it was his duty to comfort Wilf.

“How are you holding up then?” Wilf asked, looking him in the eyes.

For some reason, with the human’s gaze meeting his, he couldn’t lie about how he felt.

“Not the best,” the Doctor admitted.

The old human sighed, forehead creasing. “Yeah, with news like that.” His features appeared troubled. “You listen here, if there’s anything you want or need, you let us know. You’ll always have a place here. Me and Donna and Syl, we’ll be there for you.”

The Doctor felt a catch in his throat. It was a pleasant sentiment, but it inevitably wouldn’t hold up. “It’s going to get bad. Very bad.” He twisted his hands together. “I’ve heard stories about Gallifreyans holding onto this psychologically. They can’t seem to talk about anything else.”

The Doctor felt his gut clench at the thought. He realized that he was supposed to be reassuring Wilf. “But I’ll try to hold up as best I can. I already have the advantage of living through a lot more than most. I’ve loved and lost people, explored and seen new worlds…” He trailed off and sighed, looking down. Wilf shifted as if tempted to reach out.

Wilf cleared his throat. “What about what they said at the hospital? They said you needed a nurse to start taking care of you.”

The Doctor shrugged. “There’s no one remaining with knowledge of Gallifreyan biology. I’ll just have to do it myself. I can administer my own medication.”

“Wasn’t that woman you traveled with...Martha? Wasn’t she studying medicine?” Wilf asked.

The Doctor gave a slight smile. “Donna told you about her? She’s a Doctor now. She’s working for UNIT. Nah, she’s busy. She’s where she belongs.”

“I don’t know, some people want to be visited again.”

The Doctor gave a smile, but said nothing.

Wilfred got up. “Well, I’m going to make us a cuppa.”

  
  
The Doctor accepted while rubbing at his forehead. He could feel a bit of a headache coming on. “If you don’t mind, I’ll make myself something to go with it.” His Gallifreyan body needed more sustenance as his physiology was trying, unsuccessfully, to heal itself.

Wilf gave him a run down of the kitchen, since the Doctor had used ingredients from his TARDIS for cooking. The Doctor settled into the domesticity of things, happily chatting with Wilf while cooking and washing some dishes from this morning. An hour later, he was heaving miserably in the privy.

* * *

The Doctor ate when he could, going down to the TARDIS or the kitchen to look for anything that might reawaken his appetite. He knew that he was going to end up rail thin, considering his history with pre-regeneration sickness. Donna seemed to take his new habits with good humor.

“Glad to see you eating, skinny boy!” She would exclaim.

Her smiles and boisterousness began to fade as he started to take smaller portions and spend longer in the loo. He ate often, even when he didn’t want to. It was seriously complicating his relationship with food. After a week, his extra thinness was showing.

Donna was repentant, despite the Doctor telling her that her encouragements had actually helped. He was still staying in Donna’s old room, since the TARDIS didn’t seem to admit him in for anything other than what she considered to be necessities. He could hear a warble in the back of his mind sometimes, the TARDIS expressing herself whenever he was losing his lunch.

“I’m trying my best,” he would tell her as his damaged organs cramped.

He massaged his abdomen. He admitted that he was starting to look ghastly in the mirror. He was nowhere near natural late regeneration yet, but he was close enough to be seriously hindered.

* * *

A strange mechanical sound roused him from his slumber. The TARDIS? No, she sounded bigger and she resonated more. This was a small whirring machine that latched and caught. It needed to be lubricated. He blearily opened his eyes. He was good with machines, could get this one into fine working order. He realized foggily that his body felt pleasantly warm and cocooned. He glanced down and noticed that someone had tucked him in snugly under a couple of blankets. The den curtains had been drawn and the room was dark. He heard the whirring coming from the kitchen. He got up slowly, wincing as his joints cracked.

As he stepped into the kitchen, he saw Sylvia at the kitchen table. He observed that the whirring sound was coming from a sewing machine. Sylvia was gritting her teeth and mumbling, as if already in a temper. Yards of pinned material lay strewn across the kitchen table. The Doctor blinked and walked over to her.

“Problem?”

She gave a start. She leveled a look at him, but the Doctor was unfazed.

“Oh, you’re up,” she remarked. “Donna was all in a tizzy. She said you looked too pale and bundled the spare covers from the hall cupboard on you.”

The Doctor had the impression that this was meant as a reproach. He sighed. He had no idea what he could say to her to lessen her annoyance. She seemed to stare at him as he took a seat on the opposite side of the table. She frowned, but her gaze soon softened somewhat. She went back to her task.

“I was just making some new curtains that matched the Greys’ baby room. Charlotte’s favorite flowers are daisies, so that’s how they want to theme the curtains and walls,” Sylvia told him.

This was gobbledygook to the Doctor’s ears, as he didn’t know the first thing about décor. He could construct a Gallifreyan cot though. He hadn’t done that for years.

“Machine acting up on you?” He asked as Sylvia fumbled with the dials and there was a loud clicking sound. “Here, let me see.”

Donna’s mum regarded his grabby hands somewhat warily, but eventually surrendered the device over to him. Soon he was coaxing the ancient sewing machine back into smooth working order. He grinned as he scooted the pedal towards himself and demonstrated his adjustments a few minutes later.

“Oh, that’s much better,” Sylvia said as the needle bar plunged smoothly.

“I can speed it up if you like,” the Doctor offered.

“It’s fast enough, thank you,” Sylvia said smartly as she recaptured the pedal.

The Doctor was not upset about his offer being turned down. He yawned and rested his crossed arms on the table.

“You can just go up to bed. It’s not like there’s going to be any commotion down here,” Sylvia pointed out.

The Doctor stretched again, trying to blink himself to alertness. “Was going to cook something for all of you…”

He owed it to Donna’s family. He tried to replace any food that he took, since he knew that Donna’s family was not well off. Unfortunately, keeping track of the food exchange from their pantries was becoming difficult in his fogged state.

“Nonsense. I’m making jacket potatoes and roast this evening. You can come down if you want any, but you’ll get a crick in your back from sleeping on the furniture.”

The Doctor tried to focus on her. Was Sylvia being nice to him? Blimey, he must really look bad.

“Perhaps I will,” he murmured. His eyelids felt so heavy. Why was he sleeping so much?

The TARDIS helpfully reminded him that he was sick.

_...no comments_ _from_ _...peanut gallery_ , he sent to her distractedly. She seemed to understand the disjointed human phrase, but did not react to it. Instead, she gave him a mental jab towards the stairs.

_I’m going!_

The Doctor rose from the chair with a huff. He aimed a scowl in the direction of his hidden and snarky other half. Sylvia didn’t notice his change in mood. She continued to sew the curtains with efficiency.


	7. A Short Chilly Holiday

After another sleep, the Doctor took it into his head that he should do some adventuring. He was bored, so very bored. And even though his insides felt as if they were twisting themselves into knots, he began to make ready.

The TARDIS’s refusal to escort him off the planet was hardly surprising. Well, there were plenty of traveling opportunities here on Earth. Maybe it wasn’t as exhilarating as running for their lives, but there were new sights to behold. Donna would like it.

The Doctor went up to the attic and knocked on the little adjoining door. There was no answer. The Doctor peered in and found it devoid of his best friend. He discovered that she hadn’t let on how dusty and cluttered it was up here. Maybe she would let him help with that. After all, she was always busy assisting him and he was looking for something new to help with.

With his thoughts focused on his red haired companion, he checked the den and the kitchen for her. Only managing to turn up Sylvia, he checked the back garden. There he found Wilf.

“She said she was going out with some friends,” Wilf informed him. “I said I would make sure you had everything you need. Why?”

Well, that was unprecedented, but he was glad that Donna was spending time out of the house. He didn’t want her to feel trapped here.

“What would you say to an adventure, Wilf?”

* * *

The Doctor was a bit put out that both Wilf and the TARDIS thought that leaving the country was inadvisable. Though the Doctor admitted that it wouldn’t have been fair to Donna. Wilf thought that the seaside was a good option. His whole face had lit up as he suggested it. Despite wanting to please Wilf, the Doctor was less enthused about this. The small decrease in his insulating body fat and muscle made him particularly sensitive to the cold. The thermal regularization of his body was malfunctioning as well.

The Doctor felt the TARDIS mull over allowing him access to a warmer beach, but she eventually discouraged the idea. She knew how their adventures typically went, and she could sense that he was in pain.

“Ah well, we’ll just have to avoid the water.” The Doctor shrugged. “I’ll take the first shift driving.”

* * *

“Here, let me take over for a while,” Wilf told him after an hour of driving. “There’s a Tesco coming up. We can change out there.”

The Doctor sighed but obeyed the request. He checked his pockets for his Earth spending card. They would have to refill their fuel tank soon. _Humans and their_ _21_ _st_ _century_ _use of_ _fossil fuels_ , he thought grimly.

Wilf grunted as he got back in, appearing to watch briefly as the Doctor entered the passenger side. “Do you need another stop?”

The Doctor twitched somewhat awkwardly. “If you wouldn’t mind.”

He hoped that he wouldn’t have to put Wilf through this much longer. He realized that having to halt frequently and being less of a conversation partner made the trip seem longer. Not by much, but humans were strange about their little annoyances. Wilf kept shooting him glances. The Doctor tried to appear more alert. They had talked about Donna, but the Doctor conversed less. His brain felt somewhat foggy. Superfluous thoughts took up too much data space.

Arriving at the beach had been rather anticlimactic. The sky was overcast and as a result there weren’t as many beach goers. The Doctor found that he preferred the emptier expanses of beach though, as it allowed them to stretch their legs after the long car ride.

The Doctor wrapped his coat more snugly around himself as he trotted along. The waves lapped against the sandbar and the shorebirds cried. The Doctor took deep breaths and huddled in on himself.

“There’s a sort of pier over there,” Wilfred pointed out. “Let’s go find someplace to sit. “

The Doctor stumbled a little. Wilf hung back with him.

“You alright?”

The Doctor nodded and channeled more stamina into his strides. They found a seat and let the wind whip over them. The Doctor huddled up beside the human, trying to surreptitiously absorb some body heat through proximity. Wilf didn’t seem to mind, but the lines around his eyes creased.

“I think there’s a blanket in the trunk of the car. We could go back for it,” Wilf suggested.

The Doctor shook his head, just examining their surroundings as if they were the most fascinating thing he had seen in a long time. It was almost funny how the waves of pain crashing over him kept him present in the moment. Well, not funny. And his surroundings were almost dream-like despite their realism. His brain was busy reminding him that he was unwell.

“Glad we got out of the house,” the Doctor murmured.

“We driving you up the wall?” Wilf asked.

“No,” the Doctor said sincerely. “No, it’s just been a long few days. As a Time Lord you would think I would be used to it. Earth’s rotation though...always takes some adapting to.”

Wilf hummed his understanding. “Must be nice enough here to keep drawing you back, hopefully.” He glanced around. “I think there was a sandwich place just down the block over there. We should get ourselves something.”

The Doctor frowned as he thought about dining again. He hated having to take such attentive care of his body, forcing it to eat and sleep. How could humans stand it?

He nodded and bowed his head. Everything hurt. He had tried various forms of pain management, but nothing helped him escape for long with his fast metabolic rate. He let slip a groan, forgetting for a moment that he wasn’t alone.

“Is there anything I can do?” Wilf asked. He seemed to catch on to that the Doctor was groaning over his situation.

“No.” The Doctor attempted to pull himself together. “I’m sorry for this, Wilf. Sorry that I’m ruining your holiday.”

Wilf gave a snort. “You can’t ruin something by being here. Besides, it’s not a holiday without lemonade and sandwiches.”

Wilf stood and the Doctor ended up following him. They kept up a slower pace this time. Wilf did most of the driving back to Chiswick.


	8. Meeting a Man From the Motor Trade

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Beatles reference in the chapter title)

* * *

That night was rough. The new medication that the TARDIS started him on took his immune system down a peg, but it came with its side effects. He was busy fighting off a migraine the following morning and only vacated the room briefly to retrieve some medicine. As a result, no one in the house saw him until nearly noon. He was still in bed when there was a familiar knock on the door.

“Spaceman, are you in there?”

He gave a muffled affirmative and she walked right in. He gave a start. Granted, this used to be her room, but it still was unexpected.

“Why’s it all dark in here? Are you still in bed?” Her voice was incredulous and shrill to his tender ears.

He groaned and attempted to bury his head. She instantly apologized.

“Sorry, not feeling well?” Her tone softened and the mattress dipped slightly as she perched on the edge of the bed. Her icy fingers lay across his forehead. “You’re clammy. Want me to get something from the TARDIS for you?”

“No, I’ve already had everything that can help,” he told her.

In a quiet and murmuring voice, he filled her in about the TARDIS’s latest rigorous form of treatment. She let him finish the story, frowning slightly in the dim lighting.

Features still creased, she asked another question. “The bleeding you mentioned...has it stopped?”

He shrugged. “Probably won’t know until tomorrow if the treatment is having any effect on internal systems. What about you? Where did you go off to?”

He couldn’t deny that he wondered about her sudden disappearance. Quite abruptly, her features split into a smile.

“Oh, just went out with some friends. I heard about your little adventure with Gramps, by the way. I’m glad that you found someone to act as a replacement.”

The Doctor studied her and could find no hint of reproach. She seemed genuinely happy that he was able to have a short jaunt.

“Enough about that, what have you been up to? Donna?” He examined her. “You’re smiling. You’ve met someone.”

She bit her lip as if in an attempt to smother her grin. “What gave it away?”

“Your eyes seem different and you sound like you’re about to laugh.”

Donna finally let herself beam fully. “I’ll tell you about him. Let me turn on this lamp so that we’re not talking in the dark like mole people.”

The bedside lamp flared to life and the Doctor gave a whine.

“Oh, I forgot! Want me to shut it off?”

After assuring her that it was fine, he sat up slowly and groggily. He was a bit indecent in his undershirt and drawers, but the covers kept him hidden. Donna didn’t seem bashful in the least as she launched into an account of her outing with friends and the dashing stranger.

Donna gushed, her smile becoming infectious. “There he was, Shaun Temple, handsome and sweet as can be. He held my bag for me and gave me his number. I can’t believe he works across from Nerys, totally different departments, mind you. And he said that there was an opening at an office firm that he liaisons with, but they haven’t found a good fit. They need someone tech savvy to handle regular emails and typing, also a bit of maths. I can learn that last bit, but isn’t that wizard!”

The Doctor grinned along with her, foggy mind processing what Donna was telling him. It shouldn’t have surprised him. He knew that she would be moving on with her life, he just hadn’t anticipated it happening so soon.

“Molto bene!” The phrase somehow didn’t hold the spark of energy that it usually did. Donna didn’t seem to notice.

“It’s just going to be a shame to turn all of this down,” Donna said.

The Doctor couldn’t believe his ears. “Turn it down? What would you do that for?”

“To travel with you. I know that you’re not up to traveling right now, but-”

He straightened up. “No! No, Donna, don’t put your life on hold. You need this; you need to have a life outside of me and to have people and places of your own.”

“Yeah, but traveling in the TARDIS through time and space with my best mate? Nothing beats that,” she said softly.

The Doctor felt his breath catch and a warm feeling settled in his chest. Oh, it was going to be so hard to push her away, but she needed this.

“Donna, I’m dying. I don’t know what my regeneration is going to be like or even if I’ll retain my sanity after this.” Before she could protest, he plowed on. “I need you to be happy and moving on with your life. I can’t make you wait for me. You shouldn’t have to wait for me.”

“But we-”

He interrupted her. “Do this for yourself. Please, Donna.”

Her gaze was pained.

“Just think about it and give their office a visit. You’d be amazing. Quickest typist in Chiswick,” he told her.

“About all I’m good for,” Donna said.

The Doctor scowled. “Don’t say that. You’re brilliant, you are.”

He nearly took her hand in his, but instead looked her in the eyes. “They’d be ending up with the best and brightest humanity has to offer. I just hope they’re worth it.”

He experienced a twinge that felt like it would rend his abdomen in half. He attempted to hide it. Even so, Donna’s flitting gaze seemed to know that something was up.

“It wouldn’t be right,” Donna pointed out. “You need me.”

“And I need you to do this,” the Doctor said as he attempted to find a comfortable position. Arguing with her was putting his body under additional strain. A change of topic was in order. “Speaking of need, the attic could do with some tidying. There’s dust bunnies up there the size of my head.”

“There’s no dust bunnies capable of becoming that big,” Donna said smarmily.

The Doctor smirked at her quip. “Point taken. The reason why I bring it up is because I could help you with that this afternoon.”

“I’m taking care of that myself, and no more peeking into my room.” She poked him hard in the shoulder.

“Ow.”

After the Doctor’s protest, he sighed. His eyelids were heavy again and he was having trouble focusing on her.

“You sure you don’t want me to bring you anything?” She asked again. “God, you really are skinny.”

Her gaze was upset as she studied him. The Doctor swallowed and attempted to turn away.

“I’m sorry. I just hate seeing you like this and not knowing what to do,” Donna said. “You sure we can’t call a nurse or someone to help you out?”

“There’s no one,” he said calmly and softly. “’M tired.”

“Then get some sleep, Spaceman,” she said tenderly. “We’ll be here if you need something.”

She got up and watched as he settled back down on the bed. The Doctor wrapped himself up in the blankets and shut his eyes. He soon knew no more.

* * *

The next couple of days passed by without much change. He was still exhausted and headache-y. Everyone gave him a bit of mothering as he wandered around dazed and pale. They helped him with laundry and cooked for him, while also making sure that he remained hydrated. It was kind, and he appreciated their care.

The new medication was failing little by little, until one day, he woke up exhausted. That in itself was not an unusual development, as he was often tired these days. He attempted to move and sit up. He couldn’t get his muscles to budge.

His breathing sped up. He felt the TARDIS mentally cup his head in a gentle hold and attempt to soothe him. Squaring his mental shoulders, the Doctor readied himself to deal with the situation.


	9. Calling In the Cavalry

His hearts beat rapidly as he began to process what was happening. He ran through a mental checklist of all of current medication’s ingredients and tried to remember if he had experienced any back trauma recently.

_Deep breaths_ , he coached himself. It was no use losing his head over this without further data. Concentrating hard, he made his fingers twitch. The Doctor gave a great exhale and focused on the rest of his body. He tried to shift his feet. To his great relief, his knees and thighs trembled during the attempt. He could hear the TARDIS telling him to relax and take his time.

Next, he ran through the muscles of the arms. Everything shuddered and shook, but it moved. Exhausted, he sucked in large gulps of air. He was fine, just incredibly weak.

A knock came on the door. “Doctor! The TARDIS is going mental.”

The Doctor did a brief check in with his ship and discovered that she had purposefully called in the cavalry.

“The neighbors can’t seem to hear it, but she’s so loud! It’s a good job Mum’s out. Are you in there?” Donna knocked on the door again and opened it. “Doctor, it’s- Are you alright?”

He had no idea what she could have seen in the semi-dark. Whatever she had observed made her approach quickly. Wilfred could be heard walking down the hall calling for them both.

“We’re okay, Gramps,” Donna bellowed out to the hallway and focused back on the Doctor. “What can I do? Sh sh, it’s alright. I’m here now.”

Donna sat down close beside him. She didn’t crowd him or otherwise touch him, but kept a steady presence nearby.

“Oh, I think it’s stopped!” Wilf called. “The Police Box is quiet now. Doctor, what’s gotten into that ship- oh.”

Wilf stood in the doorway as Donna turned on the lamp. The Doctor was still panting, body tense and distress clearly showing.

“Tell us what’s wrong,” Donna cajoled him. “Is it the pain?”

He swallowed and shook his head, trying to gather himself together again. It wouldn’t do to behave in such a manner.

“I’m fine. Just felt a bit weak there and the TARDIS didn’t know what was happening. But everything’s fine now.” The Doctor attempted to speak calmly and clearly.

He could see Donna narrow her eyes at him. Her grandfather didn’t look particularly convinced either. The TARDIS buzzed disapprovingly in the back of his mind.

“It’s your own fault,” the Doctor said.

“What?”

The Doctor blinked. “Oh, was talking- TARDIS.”

It was suddenly very hard to speak. He swallowed and watched the two humans. Fine tremors were running through his body that he seemed unable to stop.

“Doctor, what’s wrong?” Donna asked him again.

He realized that he kept on trembling. Alright, so maybe he had been unnerved. The threat of complete immobility was unpleasant for any mobile life form.

“Just- weak. Physically.” There it was again, the strange speech pattern.

“What can we get you? Medicine? Food?” Donna asked.

The Doctor nodded, head drifting back. “Yeah. TARDIS. In TARDIS.”

Donna jumped up and left the room to go presumably see what the ship had for her pilot. Wilf shifted out of her way, but remained. He eyed the Doctor from the doorway.

The Doctor attempted to sit up. He managed to prop himself up against the pillows. He could sense that Wilf was closer nearby, ready to help if necessary. Before he could say something to reassure Wilf, Donna was back. She was bearing a metal thermos full of presumably an important fluid. She also held a bowl of something that made his mouth water.

He exclaimed the name of the food in his native tongue and reached a hand out for it. Donna blinked, but handed over the bowl of what probably looked to be like white sorbet. The Doctor took up the spoon and dug in, making an appreciative noise. Wilf chuckled. Donna gave what appeared to be a relieved smile.

“Should we leave you alone with whatever that stuff is?” Donna teased.

The Doctor shook his head without thinking. He wasn’t ready to be left by himself quite yet.

Catching the slip-up, Donna’s lips tightened. She handed over the thermos. “The TARDIS said, in not so many words, that drinking that would help. Or at least I think she did.”

He took a whiff of the liquid to determine its composition. He would get to ingesting that after more of his “treat.” Donna shifted closer. She exchanged a look with her grandfather.

“Are you going to be alright now, son?” Wilf asked him.

The Doctor gave an affirmative. He would more or less be okay with these to help restore him.

Wilf got up and patted the Doctor’s knee. “I’ll be in the kitchen reading the paper. Come down if you want something...or just want to chat.”

Wilf left the room. Donna settled down on the edge of the bed as if making herself comfortable. As the Doctor took a large gulp of the medicated fluid, he realized that he was stuffing his face in front of Donna. Granted, he had hardly eaten yesterday, but it was still impolite by human standards.

“Oh, probably should have gotten yourself something too.” It was awkward being temporarily unable to stand.

Donna gave a snort. “I promise I’ll dine with you some other time. Right now I just want to stuff you until you can’t take any more food.”

The Doctor furrowed his brow, utterly perplexed. “Why?”

Donna raised her eyebrows at him as if he was being daft for asking. He glanced down, gauging his body mass. It occurred to him that he would be very disturbed if he saw a human lose this much. Maybe Donna had the right idea.

After he had polished off the bowl and sipped the dregs within the thermos, he tried to convince his body that it could take more. His attempts weren’t real promising. The signals he got back demanded rest and nothing else.

“Tired.” He wished that his dazed brain would quit bypassing his filters and announcing how he felt.

Donna reached out and stroked his hand, watching as he settled back against the pillows. He attempted to get comfortable, but it hurt no matter what position his body was in. Donna held a brief discussion with him about if he could eat more and what he would prefer. He finally agreed to some scrambled eggs. It seemed to be the gentlest human food and his body hadn’t rebelled against it yet.

Donna helped him take care of himself for the rest of the day. Much to his humiliation, she even waited for him to come out of the lav sometimes. He knew why though. He kept stumbling into the doorframes and stubbing his toes. Helping to prop him up, she would guide him back to bed.

That evening, the TARDIS started insistently calling to him. No matter how he declared that he just wanted to rest, she summoned him. Like a Time Lord possessed, he had abandoned sleep and sought her out. He walked out to her, passing by a startled Sylvia and Wilf.

His ship coaxed him towards the medical bay. He obeyed her, foggy mind compliant. Something had riled her instincts enough to beckon him back. Donna had followed him in. Her questions had received only mutters from the distracted alien.

“Doctor, you aren’t well enough to pilot her right now!” Donna protested, preventing him from stumbling for the umpteenth time.

The Doctor flinched away from her touch. Contact hurt. The TARDIS guided him into the medical bay and towards one of the beds. The TARDIS put him in the section that contained the most intensive equipment. She insisted that he have Donna help hook him up to an intravenous line and monitor him. Donna had been bewildered and shouty by this point, but seemed to trust the TARDIS as well.

Something was coming and it wasn’t nice. It was too early.

A phone started to ring. Donna gave a quiet curse as she searched around for the source of the noise. The Doctor saw her pick up a familiar looking black mobile. Before he could tell Donna to ignore it, she answered.


	10. Fever

“Donna here.”

His companion paused to listen.

“Oh, thank God,” Donna said a bit breathlessly. “Yeah, the TARDIS is doing that on purpose. He’s in a bad way.”

The Doctor shifted from atop the medical bed, hearing the voice of a person that he very much did not want to worry.

“Donna, tell her we have it handled.” Adrenaline thrummed through him, reactivating his speech.

“I will not. She’s worried about you, you chucklehead.”

The Doctor began to detach his intravenous line from the TARDIS’s port. The TARDIS gave a shrill squeal.

Donna turned to him, looking dangerous. “Hands off that. Here, you can talk to her if you’re so keen.”

The Doctor suddenly found the mobile being thrust out under his nose. He regarded it as if it might bite him.

“Doctor?” Martha’s familiar voice rang out. He took the phone on automatic. “Doctor, answer me.”

“Martha!” He tried to adopt a careless flippant tone. It came out as more of a whine.

“What’s going on there? Are you hurt?” Martha’s voice was sharp.

“Err...not as such. Just under the weather.”

“You must be dying then, to admit that,” Martha said.

The Doctor winced.

“Doctor, what are your symptoms?”

“Er, there’s no reason to fuss.” He was becoming choked up again. “How- how are things- there?”

Martha sighed. “The usual. But stop changing the subject. Do you have someone taking care of you, monitoring you? How under the weather are we talking?”

It took all of his wherewithal to not give a tell-tale squeak. He had forgotten just how perceptive his former companion could be.

“I’m fine!” The phone was soon wrestled away from him. “Ow, your fingernails.”

He rubbed his hands that had been grazed by Donna’s well-filed talon-like fingernails. His current companion started spouting the truth. He could hear Martha practically growling with distress on the other end of the line. Oh, he was in for it.

The Doctor silently asked the TARDIS if she would protect him. His ship indicated that she would take care of his physical body and cradle him when he was legitimately scared, but she would do nothing to save him from his own blunders here. Besides, they meant well.

The Doctor exhaled, realizing that he was in for an earful. He tried to be more concerned about it, but his thoughts strayed to something else. He heard Donna talking loudly in the background. The beep of the “end call” button caught him off guard. What had Donna said?

“Martha and Jack are on their way,” Donna informed him.

“Jack? What do you mean Jack? Thought you were talking to Martha.” Another abdominal cramp nearly bent him in half. He grunted.

“Here, put your legs up on the bed. Lie down.” Donna gently directed him and helped him splay his body out.

With no new medication to give him, Donna had watched him with wide eyes. The Doctor gasped and twitched, body shuddering. After his jerky movements had ceased, he found that Donna had sidled closer and was petting his hair. He shrunk away from the tender gesture. The Doctor took the opportunity to study his companion’s face. Donna looked pale. Her features were pinched as she observed him. He wanted to reassure her.

“See? You’re ‘mazing. Quick thinking- got me lying- here.” He sounded somewhat drunk. He frowned. “Not enough energy- talk.”

His language and speech centers were fine. It was just too much work to move his mouth and form words.

“Then get some sleep.” Donna stroked his forehead and he winced. Seeing his grimace, she froze. “Does it hurt when I touch you?”

He gave a reluctant nod. Even the bed hurt as it supported him.

“Then I’ll stop,” she said quietly. “Martha will be here soon. She’ll be able to fix you right up.”

It sounded as if she was trying to convince herself. He wanted to be able to embrace her.

“-Alright.” He looked at her. _It was going to be alright._

* * *

The buzz of the medical bay fans roused him from slumber. He grunted. He had a headache. He made a grab for the sheet, shivering. He was on a semi-firm surface with no extra blankets save for a thin cotton coverlet. His head was pounding so much so that it was making his ears ring.

“Doctor?”

He moaned, stretching. He remained more or less where he was. There was a loud bang and he flinched. He finally identified it as one of the cabinets bursting open and he heard Donna rush over to it. There were crinkly sounds and soon Donna was dumping the pile of crinkly things beside him. She tucked the gel packs up beside his ankles, elbows, wrists, and various other pulse points.

He whimpered and she shushed him. He was already cold though, and oddly, his hands were hot. He shook his head from side to side. The movement made his pounding head feel more stable. Donna called to him, sounding worried. He tried to stop thrashing, but it made his brain feel better.

On one plane he was aware that he was lying in bed tossing and turning with fever, and on another he was watching an inner movie screen. He was running from the Daleks with Rose by his side, laughing like a madman. He was booping Martha’s nose, giggling over a joke he had made and ducking when she swiped at him. Donna was lying with him on an incredibly soft heap of cushions. They were still covered in mud and grinning, getting their breath back.

He was running through fields of red grass with Koschei. He was blowing a raspberry against his squealing daughter’s belly…

His TARDIS was trying to meld with him, despite her instincts telling her to stay away. He gave her an additional shove.

“Sorry, dear. Can’t,” he rasped.

“What can’t you do? Doctor?” Donna asked him.

Kissing his wife...kissing Rose and Jack. Nuzzling the TARDIS. A vague soppy feeling warmed his hearts. The TARDIS held him gingerly and he cuddled into her. Scarves, jelly babies, and that haircut. Where were his shoes? No, happy memories.

He heard Martha and he opened his eyes to see her leaning over him and speaking. He blinked in confusion. He had to keep moving his head because apparently his brain liked to be rattled around now.

“Doctor, I’m going to bathe you and try to bring your fever down, alright?”

He silently agreed with her logic. Martha managed to get his clothing off despite his wild and unsettled movements. Donna helped her.

_Ah! Cold cold cold._ It was interrupting his round of pleasant memories. They promised to bring Jack here to help. _Jack Jack Jack and Rose. Wish Rose was here. He loved her smiles._

He was oddly contented and pliant in their hands. At least touch didn’t hurt anymore. He gave happy hums that seemed to baffle his companions. They exchanged a look. Donna shrugged.

Held safe in his TARDIS’s awareness and under his companions’ watchful gazes, he was where he belonged. This wasn’t so bad, if one disregarded the pain. Donna stroked his cheekbone and Martha took his pulse. He shut his eyes, hearts full.


	11. Jack and Martha Plan

Content Warning: for medical equipment, such as heart monitors and a leg compression device. Also, there are mentions of starvation.

When Jack saw that old blue box, he practically skipped over to her. He was as giddy as a kid. There were still mixed feelings on both sides, but now they knew each other well enough to keep the peace.

“Hey there, beautiful.” He paused to run a hand over her frame.

Her hum changed minutely in pitch. Jack dug out his key and let himself in. He breathed a small sigh as he entered the familiar control room, wrapped up in memories. It took him a moment to remind himself what he was here for.

“Alright, take me to whoever’s in residence.”

He waited until she was good and ready before he tried her corridors. He was led to a room that he recognized as the Doctor’s study. When he opened the doors, he found Martha at the central desk. She glanced over at him, holding a stack of circular papers. She looked tired, and it was not just evidenced by her under-eye bags.

“Doctor Jones.” He flashed her a trademark grin by reflex.

She returned his smile with hardly a glimmer of her usual sparkle.

“He’s that bad, huh?”

Martha released a sigh. She rubbed briefly at her face. “I can’t disclose the details to you, but he’s going to need your help. He’s going to need help from all of us.”

Jack straightened his posture, awaiting orders.

“I’m not sure how long I can stay. UNIT will want regular reports while I’m here. I can label this as a private consultation for only a brief window, and then it’s back to base or call in a team. The latter isn’t an option.”

Jack gave a nod. UNIT didn’t do charity work, even for their employees, and especially not with one of their best doctors.

“What can I do?” He was prepared to make a time jump or take a ship out to fetch whatever the Doctor needed. He presumed that was why he had been called in.

Martha gave a weighted smile while she glanced down at the papers. “Right now? You can go and sit with him. He’s with Donna’s mum, but I don’t think she’s staying.”

Jack gave an impatient bounce on his heels. “What about after that? Won’t he need something?”

“Jack, he’s about to regenerate.”

The sentence hit him like a blow. He faltered on his feet. “Then… why aren’t you with him? Who else is with him?”

Surely she knew that Gallifreyans, hell, all mammalian species benefited from company before death. The Doctor especially, going by his file.

“It’s not his time for a little while yet,” Martha said softly. “God, I can’t-” She squeezed her eyes shut, brittle façade cracking. Jack took a step forward and she took a deep breath. “But it’s all instinctual, this process of regeneration. It isn’t ethical or even feasible to keep him on life support. His culture has this process documented. It’s been happening for millions of years, and he wants to follow through with it, to change when it’s time. As his physician and his friend, I need to keep it on schedule.”

Jack felt sick to his stomach. The Doctor was the last of his kind and he was one of the most long lived species, besides Jack. He didn’t have many regenerations left in him.

“He’s-” There were so many things he wanted to say, but then he remembered that Martha was dealing with this too. She looked wrecked. “Come here.”

Jack approached and opened his arms. She only took one step forward until Jack bridged the gap for her. He wrapped her up in a firm embrace and let her breathe there for a moment. She eventually broke away.

“I shouldn’t have said all that,” Martha confessed.

Jack snorted. “I doubt that he’s going to sue you, if you’re talking about the Data protection act here.”

Martha gave a quiet laugh.

“He doesn’t have a next of kin listed with UNIT, does he?” Jack asked, curious about the Doctor’s long personal history.

“No, I’ll ask him while I’m here.” She paused and gave Jack a knowing look. “You should go see him. He should be waking up soon.”

Jack gave a nod. “Good idea.”

Giving her advice to go and rest, he left a tired looking Martha and traversed the corridors. He was eager to see for himself how the Doctor was doing. The TARDIS led him predictably to the medical bay. He opened the doors to find it empty save for the left wing.

Jack found a middle aged woman hand sewing beside the occupied bed. She had her lips pursed as she finished the edge of the fabric. Jack opened his mouth to introduce himself and she made a cutting motion with her hand. Chastened, Jack clenched his jaw shut and studied the form on the bed. He let loose an involuntary gasp. Ignoring Donna’s mother’s stink-eye, he took a step forward.

While the Doctor looked in the midst of treatment with all of the equipment attached to him, he still seemed neglected. Deep shadows ringed his eyes and his skin was sallow. His prominent bones practically protruded from the skin, angles sharp. He looked like the victim of a great war, where rations were scarce and illnesses were commonplace.

He wore one of the medical bay’s blue robes and some inflatable leg wraps. The tech buzzed softly as it compressed and massaged his calves to prevent blood clots. It was evidenced by those that Martha anticipated at least a day or two in bed for his future. Jack tilted his head, drawing some conclusions based on his many hospital stays before his immortality.

Usually tired medics were rushing patients out of beds unless...Jack squinted and studied the Doctor’s chest. He saw the bumps of the monitors adhered to the Doctor’s skin over his twin cardiovascular system. Heart troubles usually went hand in hand with starvation, so Jack was not surprised by the presence of the monitors. What surprised him was that the Doctor had obviously let his health go. Hadn’t someone reminded him to eat?

He looked at the woman, who appeared to be fiddling with her daisy printed fabric while watching his reaction. He raised an eyebrow at her. She shook her head, gaze heavy as she looked at the Doctor.

As if the Doctor could sense their presence, he began to wake. The Doctor gave a thin moan, shifting. He turned his head until he was facing Sylvia. There was a pause.

“Thought I fixed your sewing machine.”

Donna’s mum gave a nearly imperceptible smile. “You did. I’m just finishing with some overcast stitches. It prevents snagging if done by hand.”

Jack stepped into his line of sight. “How are you feeling?”

The Doctor blinked owlishly at him. His legs twitched and he frowned. “Like I’m wearing pool floaties. My head feels better though.”

Jack smiled at the admission. “Good.”

“I don’t-” The Doctor scowled more as he got his bearings. “I think I had a fever last night. I don’t remember much.”

He looked disturbed that his memory was probably coming up with blank spaces. The Doctor seemed to flush a bit and blink. He pulled at the powder blue sleeve and loose neckline of his robe, obviously still thinking over his predicament.

“Was Martha here?”

Jack filled him in. “She’s still here. She’s been taking care of you for most of the night it sounded like.”

The Doctor hummed quietly. “Thank her.”

“You’ll get the opportunity to thank her yourself soon, probably after she gets some shut eye.” Jack watched the Doctor shift.

“Can you-” The Doctor reached out a hand. “Can you help me sit up?”

“Of course.” Jack stepped over quickly to his side. Wrapping an arm around his old friend, he sat him up. The Doctor squirmed as Jack’s fingers brushed over the protruding vertebrae of his back. “Sorry, let me get you propped up against these pillows.”

He held the Doctor still as he settled the pillows to cushion the fragile back. By the time he got the Doctor remaining upright, the Doctor was panting.

“Are you thirsty?” Jack asked, partly to give him a distraction from the pain.

When the Doctor gave an affirmative, they spent a minute or two making certain that the Doctor sipped from a cup of water without incident.

Jack was reminded acutely of his own encounter with starvation that ended up killing him. It had been hell to come back from and start the refeeding process. Hopefully he could help the Doctor’s experience be less memorable.

“What would you say to some breakfast? The TARDIS should have something set out for you if you’re up to it.”

The Doctor swallowed and agreed quietly.

“Well, I’ll be getting out of your way then,” Sylvia said, gathering up her sewing equipment.

“Thanks for staying before,” Jack told her warmly.

She brushed away his thanks like it was an annoying gnat and left. Jack was taken aback, but he soon turned his attention over to the patient. The Doctor looked uncertain.

“Where’s Donna?” The Doctor asked.

“I don’t know. I only just arrived and had a chat with Martha. Maybe she’s asleep.” Jack disentangled the Doctor from the various lines and ports and asked about some of the Doctor’s preferences. While Jack usually didn’t like playing waiter, he was more than willing to make an exception in the Doctor’s case.

The Doctor hummed, looking more alert at the promise of sustenance. It was all Jack could do not to chuckle at his eagerness. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all.


	12. Ice Cream and Medicine

Content warning: Discussion of digestion aiding medication and descriptions of hunger.

  
  
  
  
  
The Doctor licked his lips as Jack came in bearing a heavily laden tray. The Doctor noticed a concerning trend as his gaze roamed over the individual items. Most of the edibles were in stark white cartons or dishes, securely contained. Jack shot him an apologetic smile.

“The TARDIS insisted on this and nothing else.”

Sighing, the Doctor took the tray from him and picked up a spoon. He started with a cup of flavored ice. There were juices and heavily flavored ice cream dots on the tray. At least the TARDIS had kept it interesting for him. He had known that his digestion wasn’t working properly, contributing to his nausea. It was just unfortunate that it had progressed so far as to lead to a liquid diet.

“When can you have solids?” Jack asked as his gaze roamed over the Doctor.

The Doctor had seen how disturbed his old friend had been when he looked at him and touched him. Jack’s old demons must have been resurfacing while taking in the Doctor’s appearance.

“I don’t know,” the Doctor confessed. “The TARDIS has kept me on soft foods for the past couple of days. I didn’t even notice.”

The brain fog was really disturbing him with the way it undermined his concentration. He felt the TARDIS purr to him and brush against his mind, as if to ask him to make allowances for his illness.

Mechanically, he ate spoonful after spoonful of things that melted in his mouth and coated his tongue. Even well after he had consumed most of the items, his belly ached with unsatisfied hunger. At least the ice cream had lifted his spirits. Jack went to go get a bowl of his own and like unsupervised children, they had ice cream for breakfast.

Martha came to check on him an hour later and examine him in private. Martha had to conduct an abdominal examination that ended up turning rigorous as she discovered each problem. His yelps and shrieks were muffled by the TARDIS’s walls, so that they wouldn’t carry out to Jack.

Martha had wrapped him up in a heated blanket afterward and smoothed his hair back. Martha fessed up to talking about his regeneration to Jack. The Doctor had shrugged, stating that Jack would have found out sooner or later.

“Thank you for calling him...and coming here.”

“It’s not like I could have stayed away when I got the call that the TARDIS was lighting up UNIT’s scanner,” she told him. “I thought you might like to see Jack again. I know how close you two were after that year.”

Martha’s gaze dimmed somewhat after mentioning the year that never was. She eventually snapped her professional mask back into place. “So, who is your next of kin? There’s no one listed in our records.”

He frowned. “The TARDIS. I thought I told UNIT that. At least I think I did.”

Martha’s eyes widened slightly.

“The TARDIS knows my wishes,” the Doctor said. “And she usually finds a way to get her point across.”

He smiled as he thought about her. She had a very unique way of expressing herself. Anyone would have to be completely desensitized to miss her signals.

“Oh. The record keepers probably didn’t know what you meant.” Martha spent a few more minutes discussing his treatment with him. The goal was to decrease his internal inflammation and bleeding. Once the worst had been treated, then they would concentrate on making him comfortable.

Martha described what his next step would be. “I want you to take a suppository and I’ll get you started on some anti-inflammatory medication that will be safe for your cardiovascular system.”

The Doctor’s cheeks heated up and he averted his gaze at the mention of the first. Seeming to read his change in mood as uncertainty, she assured him.

“I can help you with the suppository. You just have to relax your muscles...” She was acting like he was unfamiliar with that type of medication.

The Doctor hurriedly interrupted her. “I’ll do it, thank you.”

Seeing his weak blush, Martha dropped the topic.

The Doctor relaxed as their discussion skirted away from medicine and treatments. He talked with his two friends until lunchtime rolled around. Donna showed up by then and the other two left them to go out and explore Chiswick.

The Doctor scooted to the edge of the bed to embrace Donna. He thanked her for taking care of him last night. Donna seemed startled to find her arms suddenly full of emotional Time Lord.

“It’s good to see that you’re feeling better,” Donna remarked. “I would have been here this morning but Mum and Gramps ganged up on me to get some sleep at the house. You know how they are.”

Grinning, the Doctor acknowledged that he did indeed know how they were. He couldn’t help but notice that Donna seemed to be having a hard time meeting his gaze. He had a sneaking suspicion as to why.

“How goes the job application and dating life?”

She exhaled. “I have an interview tomorrow.”

The Doctor beamed. “Brilliant! And...?”

“I’m seeing him on Saturday.”

“Aw, that’s lovely!”

Donna scrunched up her face slightly, poking him. “Careful, I’m starting to think you want to get rid of me.”

“Donna Noble? Never,” he hummed.

“You look tired,” Donna said.

He shrugged, a bit helpless when it came to reassuring her. He was exhausted from his body repeatedly attacking and healing itself. There wasn’t much he could do about it besides seeking out some relaxation. Maybe when he was well enough, he could go to the TARDIS’s scenic rooms.

Donna hesitantly filled him in about yesterday. “I told Martha about our trip to the hospital. She asked you for permission to look at your files last night. I’m not sure if you remember agreeing to that.”

The Doctor thought. “I do somewhat now. You lot shouldn’t worry so much. I trust you.”

Donna looked touched.

“...Wouldn’t have traveled with you all otherwise,” he said.

“Oi, don’t spoil it,” Donna said, gently swatting at him.

He grinned, knowingly exactly what he was doing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: While writing this is helping me immensely, is it too insensitive to be writing this in current times?


	13. Martha's Care

Content warning: bed bath and non graphic description of bathroom issues.

As the day dragged on, the previous night started catching up with the Doctor. His brief energetic period left him ragged. He requested Jack to bring him a couple of books only to end up putting them aside after his vision blurred and warped. Martha spent more time catching up on sleep, which the Doctor was temporarily grateful for. There was less poking and prodding for a few hours.

Wilf showed up, which calmed the Doctor exponentially. He drifted off into a deep sleep that lasted all afternoon. He woke up later under the watchful gaze of Jack again. It was just as well, because he needed to use the facilities badly, and Jack was quick about unwrapping his legs. They detached him from his line and the Doctor shooed him away as he shut the lav door. It wasn’t the suppository’s fault. He was just...bleeding too much from his damaged organs. He used his biological abilities to flush the mess out of his body. It was a much more unpleasant form of detox.

He heard knocking on the door and Martha calling in to him. She sounded frantic.

“Doctor, are you alright?”

He tsked in his mind at his symbiote before answering. “Yes, I’m all right.”

The TARDIS warbled innocence. The Doctor frowned.

Upon exiting the lavatory, he found Martha and Jack hovering just outside the door.

“Go lie down,” Martha ordered him.

Both of them supported him on his trek to the bed, keeping a hand on his back.

“What’s-?” He was being reminded of being escorted into custody, which was only a novelty this time due to his friends acting as the law keepers.

“Your hearts’ rates shot right up within the span of a few seconds. If you were anyone else I would be suspecting you of drug use,” Martha told him.

The Doctor sputtered. “Recreational drugs? I was just using the lavatory.”

The biological process hadn’t been that unusual. It had pained him, certainly, but Jack and Martha were acting like he had done something untoward. Wait, had the pain-?

He hastened to explain. “Oh, I think it was because it hurt.”

He grimaced upon realizing that he had just told his friends it hurt to use the lav. When he looked at them though, he couldn’t find reactionary expressions beyond sympathy.

Martha sighed and asked Jack to leave them so that she could discuss the Doctor’s treatment with him. The next few minutes were some of the Doctor’s most uncomfortable as he was forced to discuss his lavatory habits with an ex-companion. It was something that the Time Lords would have written about but never spoken of to each other. Even after his long history with humans, it was awkward.

Martha mercifully cut the interrogation short. The Doctor suspected it was because she saw how tired he looked. She spent a little time telling him of their medication options if his heart problems persisted. She told him that he should have a bath soon since he hadn’t had one today.

“That sounds lovely,” the Doctor admitted. “Er...do you have to supervise or…?”

He blamed his still foggy brain for not anticipating how she was going to follow through with this. When she shook her head and told him she was going to give him a sponge bath, he could have scoffed at himself. Of course she wouldn’t be letting him stand again so soon. He wouldn’t have let himself either with his hearts’ conditions.

He had to wait while she retrieved soap, towels, washcloths, and water. She told him that it would be a collaborative process, but not to concern himself if he had to rest during it. Martha professionally stripped him of everything except for his intravenous line. She tucked a couple of towels beneath him and gave him a washcloth while she prepped another for use.

His people had never been as fussed about nudity as 21st century humans were. But, it should have been humiliating for a Time Lord to be cared for like this, being unable to do it all himself.

Martha looked completely nonjudgmental and relaxed. Her calm aura influenced the Doctor’s own. She let him attend to his tender stomach. She gently washed his face and neck. His tension loosened bit by bit as she ran the washcloths over him. She cleaned his hands and wrists so carefully that it made his hearts ache. She was so intent on looking after him, he found that he wasn’t fussed about this much at all. Even sans modesty cloth, he relaxed as she attended to his legs and feet. His foot twitched as she cleaned his soles.

“Ticklish?” Martha asked. “Don’t worry, I’ll be careful.”

The Doctor blinked at her. He couldn’t remember anyone ever washing the soles of his feet for him before. When Martha finished up and got him into a clean medical robe, he was a bit speechless about it still. Martha just smiled and readjusted the medical equipment around him.

“Would you like for me to check if you have visitors, or would you like to sleep for a while?”

The Doctor considered. “Visitors are fine.”

Even after all of that, he found his dignity completely intact. Martha had an amazing bedside manner. He told her as much.

“Oh, you,” she chuckled. “Just don’t go to the lavatory on your own without telling someone and let me know when the pain increases sharply like that, alright?”

He nodded, actually meaning it. He hadn’t been lying when he told Donna that he trusted them.

“Good. Take care of yourself, Mister,” Martha said fondly.

For one brief blessed moment as she smiled, he didn’t care about his pain as much.


	14. Carried

Content warning: sad

“I’m so hungry,” the Doctor said breathlessly.

Donna frowned, eyes looking inexplicably troubled. The Doctor was tempted to flop over bonelessly, but refrained. He hadn’t lost all sense of decorum. The recent couple of days had crawled by.

“I’m sure Martha will have you back on solids soon,” Donna consoled him.

Martha was leaving tomorrow too, which was contributing to his moping session. Martha had engaged in a discussion with the Doctor and Jack on how to carry on in her absence. Jack was going to take over and consult when they needed advice. The Doctor was left with a deep sense of trepidation over it all.

To be fair, Martha hadn’t wanted to leave either, but she suspected that if she stayed one more day, UNIT was going to turn up. While they respected her judgment and finesse, they were generally a suspicious organization, especially considering their history.

The Doctor had entrusted himself to someone and he had lost his footing again. He still had the TARDIS, but even she knew the natural progression of things. She would encourage him to regenerate once it was time.

Soon he would be losing Donna too, and even maybe this version of Jack, who still had a minuscule spark of happy-go-lucky left in him. The Doctor was wallowing and it wasn’t like him. Maybe if his belly didn’t ache and his body didn’t cramp, his brain would be more cooperative.

“Doctor, what can I do?” Donna asked.

He shook himself out of his fugue and turned his attention to Donna. He was worrying her again. It was best to change the subject.

“So, when will you know if you got the job?”

Donna scowled. “Not until next week Shaun says, but you didn’t answer my question.”

Now he had aggravated her, and he was uncharacteristically helpless to do anything about it. He just shot her a look and let her read whatever she saw in his eyes. He hated doing it, but he was quickly running out of strength.

Donna reached out and stroked his fringe and sideburn, unknowingly brushing her fingertips across his temple. He shut his eyes. The touch without the psychic connection was something he had not felt for many years.

“That. Please do that.”

The contact made a frisson go up his spine. He distantly wished that his friends would treat him like this all the time. He had never felt so...protected. It was a paradox considering his circumstances.

He slitted open an eye and saw Donna looking at him questioningly. “Headache.” It was a half truth, but Donna seemed to settle in to petting his temple after that.

She hadn’t even teased him about this. He was grateful. Something told him he would be facing far more indignities. So, like a Gallifreyan youth, he was willed back to a doze with the temporal contact.

* * *

His stomach must have shrank, because when he was allowed to have solids again, he didn’t eat much. He could tell that it was upsetting Jack as he had handed over the tray that was only emptier by a couple of items.

“C’mon Doctor, I know that you can eat more,” Jack said. “You love chips.”

The Doctor frowned. His stomach had churned when he picked up on the smell of the rich greasy chips. He had eaten some vegetables and biscuits, but that was his limit.

“Are you not feeling good? Do you need a bath? Painkillers?” Jack was often offering those, as if Martha had schooled him in the things that seemed to calm down cranky Time Lords.

While the Doctor found that Jack catered to his whims, the Doctor still was reluctant to put his wellbeing into anyone’s hands.

“Maybe we should call Martha...” Jack began hesitantly.

“No, I’m just not hungry. Bored, to tell the truth.”

Jack’s face lit up. “We can work with that. What’s tickling your fancy?”

The Doctor ignored the flirty smirk that he knew Jack had plastered on. Instead, he tried to scour his brain. They were essentially like adolescents left to their own devices. He could have chosen anything, save something too dangerous.

“I don’t know. It has to be something I can do indoors. I’m very tired.” It was like that one time when he had been thrown into the silver sea and bashed repeatedly against the rocks. His body had to be hauled out and it had taken weeks to get his strength back. This time, it was like he was being mauled with no healing factor, no rescue boats. He was powerless and he felt it keenly.

“Don’t say that.” Jack seemed to understand the emotion behind his words. “We’ll find something for you to do. For right now, let’s decide on a room.”

Jack started ticking off some of the TARDIS’s rooms on his fingers. He already knew that the TARDIS was grounding them. She could rouse herself from slumber to take Jack to Cardiff in case of a rift-related emergency, but the Doctor was tethered to this location for now.

At last, the Doctor decided on the games room. He had made some happy memories there. He had only started using it on the insistence of Rose and Jack a few years ago. Jack agreed enthusiastically and readied the Doctor for the short trip.

The Doctor ended up walking halfway there with assistance. Then, he fell to his knees and insisted that he was capable of getting back to his feet in a minute. Jack and the Doctor had waited, and waited. The Doctor willed every bit of strength back into his body. He had no more reserves and no more would come.

Jack’s features firmed. “Just relax for me, Doctor.”

The Doctor felt strong arms winding under his knees and back. It was impossible that Jack was going to pick him-

The TARDIS corridors spun sickeningly as the Doctor was lifted into the air. The TARDIS sang to him, sensing as his hearts’ rates shot up again.

“Put me down! I can walk. Put me down!” The Doctor issued it as an order, but it sounded more like a plea.

“Hang on, we’re almost there,” Jack assured him.

The Doctor’s senses reeled until he was set back down. His vision was warping and colors flowed over his sight. His brain was recording every moment through a distorted filter.

“Doctor? Hey, Doctor!”

The Doctor heard Jack’s voice above him. His head was pillowed on Jack’s lap while the rest of his body lay numb. Why had Jack carried him? It had hurt and it made him unbelievably dizzy.

“You were supposed to put me down!” The Doctor snapped. His voice broke.

Jack swallowed and stared down at him. “I know. Next time I’ll get a wheelchair.”

The Doctor was breathing heavily, trying to righten his spinning world. His equilibrium had been so disturbed, it took him several minutes to sit up.

Later, he had foggy recollections about the game room. He might have played a snippet of backgammon? He remembered sitting propped up against Jack. He had come back to himself when Jack started coaxing him into a wheelchair. Time had passed, but his brilliant brain was no longer recording things properly.

Had the TARDIS attempted to calm him down again? He couldn’t recall.

The sea was washing over him and, this time, he was being dragged out with the tide.


	15. Forgiveness and Mortality

The Doctor’s consciousness drifted and capsized for nearly an hour. There was a commotion off somewhere in the distance. He heard familiar voices that temporarily soothed him, and then he was sailing by a nebula. He had seen this particular nebula with Rose before this body. It was the typical interstellar specimen, not too unlike the Helix Nebula. How fitting...remnant of a dying star...a great eye.

“Doctor?”

The blurry outline of someone loomed over him. His survival instincts quickly took over, and he sucked in a breath over his tongue, senses trying to discern who it was.

“He might be having trouble breathing,” the person spoke in what was unmistakably Wilf’s voice.

The Doctor grunted. Thankfully, he heard Jack quickly filling in Wilf on the Doctor’s miraculous respiratory bypass. Jack...was forgiven.

“Oh, thank heavens,” Wilfred said softly. “Son, can you hear us?”

The affectionate address was like a drop of sunshine that spread throughout his being. The Doctor gave a weak nod. Jack quickly came over to him.

Jack informed him of the medical details. The Doctor needed more vitamins fed in through the IV, because the blood loss wasn’t doing him any favors. Unfortunately, his Gallifreyan biology prevented some of the restorative methods that could be used on humans. The Doctor voiced his quiet verbal acceptance of the treatment. He gave a little start when he felt Wilf’s hand close over his, but the Doctor’s attention was quickly refocused on Jack again.

The immortal spoke calmly and clearly. “You’re going to stay in bed for a little longer. It was my mistake for moving you so soon.”

The Doctor shrugged. In the grand scheme of things, it didn’t matter. He would continue to get worse until he would properly regenerate. There would be acute physical symptoms carrying over into the early post-regeneration at the very least.

Wilf squeezed his hand and smiled down at him. The Doctor was soon taking deep meditative breaths and centering his jumbled psyche.

“Jack? Gramps? Is he alright?”

“Donna?” The Doctor called for his other companion.

She stepped over to his bedside and took his other hand while Jack walked back and forth between the supply cabinets. A small smile crept over the Doctor’s features, so supported by his human team. He gave a contented hum.

“You should start to feel better soon. Can I get you anything?” Jack asked, rearranging the medical equipment.

The Doctor looked at him. “No. Thank you,” he said sincerely.

“Aw, look at you all,” Jack said teasingly. “Lucky bastard.”

The Doctor smirked.

“Here, you young people look after each other,” Wilf said. He retreated and ushered Jack forward.

Jack snorted. “I think that you’ll find that you and your granddaughter are by far the youngest people in the room.”

Wilf blinked at him, gaze darting back and forth between the Doctor and Jack. He seemed to fumble with the enormity of the revelation. “You mean that you- I forgot for a moment that the Doctor was- You mean that you’re like him?”

“Yeah.” Jack bounced up and down on his heels.

“He’s human,” the Doctor muttered, letting his eyes flutter shut.

“...And by far the longest lived,” Jack informed him.

The Doctor listened to them chatter back and forth for a bit. They unanimously decided to let the Doctor rest in relative quiet. The Doctor would have liked to have a say in that, but decided that they probably had other things to do. Donna was staying with him again, though she likely had the most things on her schedule.

“You have to look after yourself,” Donna told him softly.

* * *

The Doctor’s coif was thinning out. Jack had noticed when he had used the Doctor’s facilities to wash his hands. He spotted hair scattered everywhere and it wasn’t due to the Doctor’s untidiness during shaving. They weren’t beard bristles.

Jack sighed softly, noticing that the TARDIS automatically cleaned up the mess once he had seen it. The TARDIS seemed to make certain that she didn’t hide any of the Doctor’s symptoms. Jack made a mental note to increase his patient’s nutrient intake.

Jack wasn’t built for this nurse gig, especially without a skimpy nurse outfit. Anyone with better medical training was more suited than him, but both the Doctor and Doctor Jones had decided that he was the best fit.

The Doctor had been dizzy more often, stating that the ceiling was always swaying wildly and that he was cold. Jack had checked him over and given him a heated blanket before calling Martha. Martha had given him a run down of things to help alleviate the symptoms and how to deal with any side effects from the medication.

Jack had taken to napping in the medical bay in the evenings before going back to his old bed. The Doctor requested that Jack stay over more nights. At least Jack hadn’t peeved him too badly in the games room. Then again, they both hadn’t been gentle with each other over the years.

Jack walked out of the lavatory and glanced over at his patient. The Doctor was peacefully asleep.

By all rights, Jack should think him lucky. Some day the Doctor would die. But, Jack would make certain that that wouldn’t be for a little time yet.


	16. Chiswick Continues On

“Jack?”

The Doctor’s voice sounded very small. In the dim glow of the monitors surrounding him, he only looked slightly lucid. There was something in his tone that made Jack straighten up. Jack had been napping in the comfy chair that the TARDIS had provided for part of his vigil.

It was late into the night cycle. Jack had been unable to sleep much and the Doctor had been restless. The Doctor seemed unable to move much after supper though.

“What’s wrong?” Jack surveyed his patient as best as he could in the dark, studying his position and what he could see of his eyes.

“Could you-?” The Doctor clamped his mouth shut. He swallowed.

“What do you need, Doctor? You can ask me anything,” Jack assured him.

Then, in a deceptively even tone, the Doctor asked, “Could you come here and sit with me?”

Jack heard his teeth click together. Jack approached and sat down on the edge of the bed. He scooted closer and opened his arms.

“How do you- oh.”

The Doctor dragged himself towards Jack on his elbows. The Doctor seemed so emaciated, it hurt to look at him. Jack carefully handled what felt like a pile of skin and bone. _Oh Doctor._

Jack gave a sharp inhale once he noticed just how prominent his patient’s bone structure was. As he touched him, he swore he felt every joint and stretch of sinew. He was scooping a Time Lord skeleton into his arms. Jack choked. The Doctor nestled against him.

In the faux moonlight and monitor glow, they sat there. It took readjustments to figure out how the Doctor preferred to sit. It turned out that he had wanted the same cradling motion Jack had used last time, but without the movement.

The Doctor’s expression was nearly imperceptible in the dark, but Jack could tell that he was contented. Every bit of tension drained out of the Doctor’s body. The Doctor weighed no more than a young child. Jack blinked rapidly.

They stayed like that for a while until Jack carefully tucked him back into bed. The quiet night felt strangely nearly final.

* * *

Life in Chiswick carried on. Sylvia proudly delivered her curtains to her coworker, who seemed grateful to have something so finely crafted from her friend. Wilfred’s garden beds grew weeds this year, as he was very distracted from all of the goings on. He made numerous cups of tea for the Doctor and his granddaughter. The Doctor wasn’t awake to drink his cup most days.

Donna didn’t get the job, but she assured Shaun that she would find something else. The best Temp in Chiswick knew how to move forward and keep trying. She still frequently sat beside the Doctor and watched him slumber. She often had to reapply her mascara after these sessions.

The TARDIS was constantly emitting a faint buzz, like a faulty light fixture or mosquito trap. She seemed otherwise unchanged, to the point where her interior wasn’t morphing. All of her rooms were fixed in position through time and space. It was almost like she was waiting for something.

The Doctor woke enough to help Jack get some medicine into him, but he quickly became overwhelmed with everything. Touch was uncomfortable again, and he alternately preferred his bed to be firm or soft. The Doctor emitted noises that weren’t like a whimper per say, but they still felt like they might break Jack’s human heart in half.

The Doctor appeared to regain some lucidity one day and Jack found a very alert Time Lord typing something into a handheld device.

“What’s that?” Jack asked.

The Doctor raised an eyebrow, but remained focused on his task. “Something very clever.” He blinked and rubbed at his face. “Something that’s more clever than I should be capable of right now.”

Jack took a seat on the foot of his bed. “Not something that’s likely to blow up in our faces?”

The Doctor hummed and the device emitted several beeps. “It shouldn’t. The TARDIS would warn me if something…”

He trailed off as if concentrating too hard to keep up the conversation. Jack watched the shadow of his friend work on his project. God, he felt so helpless.

“Doctor, please eat something.”

The Doctor didn’t spare him a glance. “Almost done.”

Jack was just contemplating threatening to force feed him when the Doctor made a triumphant noise. The Doctor flopped back against his pillows, loosely clasping the device.

The Doctor carried on as if their conversation had been uninterrupted. “What was it? Eating? Could do with a milkshake. Love a good banana milkshake.” He exhaled and turned slightly, as if trying to make himself more comfortable.

Without the necessary body fat to cushion him, he was undoubtedly finding everything to be a painful experience. On top of his internal problems, it was a small miracle he wasn’t constantly groaning in pain. Jack remembered it.

“Okay. Try not to fall asleep until you eat something.” Jack pointed at him.

The Doctor’s expression seemed to say, _Who? Me?_

Eventually, Jack managed to get enough into him. Wilfred turned up again and so did Donna. Donna talked with the Doctor until he fell asleep.


	17. Close to the End of Time

Content Warning: Some illness/disability related self loathing

Donna had a nearly permanent crease between her eyebrows around him. It stood out to him as she sat with him at the kitchen table in the Noble household. The Doctor had wanted to spend some time with her while she was winding down from her latest job interview. The Doctor had used a wheelchair to exit the TARDIS, preferring the old fashioned machine over the hoverchair for simple tasks.

As Donna asked him question after question about how he was feeling and what he needed, it was clear that she was seeing the illness and not her friend. The Doctor had tolerated the heating pad and the water and blankets, but eventually told her to sit down and relax. He was here to keep her company, not to be waited on.

“I can’t help it. I-” Donna pursed her lips.

“What?” The Doctor looked her in the eyes.

She brushed her hair back in a fidgety way. “I keep having nightmares about you. About you being so sick.”

“Oh Donna.” He reached out and took her hand, squeezing it.

“Oh, your fingers are like ice! You should put them against your heating pad.” She transferred his bony fingers to the soft cloth, rubbing the backs of his hands briefly.

He made a grumbling noise, letting go of the pad. “I’m alright. See, still awake and talking. Speaking of which, what did you want to talk about? Or did you want to watch a movie? I can rig up the media center from the TARDIS, show you some holographic entertainment.”

“No, I don’t want to watch a movie.”

“Well then, a tabletop game. I bet I can get the TARDIS to produce any old classics or something from the future that won’t have any effect. Mind you, it has to be something short. Can’t concentrate for anything else.”

When he saw her brow creasing again, he continued on. “Or perhaps we could go somewhere. I could hire a cab and give you some historical highlights about where you want to go in 21st century Britain.”

She shook her head.

“Uh…” He grunted, another deep burning spasm made him scrunch up his body. Donna stepped closer. “Or we could talk about your future plans...or we could…”

He gave up trying to speak and just shuddered.

“Doctor, what can I do?”

High pitched noises seemed to pulled from him. “It hurts! I can’t-”

Instead of reassuring and taking care of his friend like he wanted, he promptly lost control. It was like a pressure valve had been released. All that time of watching himself waste away, of trying his best to take care of himself while not worrying them had been building up under the surface. Everything hurt constantly, every hour and every minute of every day.

He went from savior to useless, from friend to leech. He broke into great rasping, dry sobs. Donna knelt down to hug him, and for the first time, he attempted to shy away. She held herself back, as if fearing that he was too physically fragile. She rubbed his shoulders.

When Donna spoke, it was as if she could read his mind. “You don’t have to try to entertain me or look after me. I know that you’re used to saving planets and others. But Doctor, it’s not so bad being on the receiving end of that, right? That’s why you do this. We save the day for so many.”

His sounds quieted a little. He heard Sylvia come in from outside and he quickly clamped a hand over his mouth.

“There,” Donna said in a soothing murmur. “Just let us save you for once.”

He pried his hand carefully away from his mouth to speak. “You’ve all been saving me for all this time.”

Donna hummed agreement. She looked him in the eyes as if to ask what was so bad about that.

“It’s- I can’t keep taking that without repaying that generosity somehow.”

Donna’s expression reminded him of when he had tried to hand her a very ancient and oozing subterranean plant that had been secreting a natural oil. Her nose had wrinkled and her features firmed in rejection of holding it with her bare hands. He had needed to obtain some gloves for her, despite assuring her that it was completely harmless.

“You’re my friend,” she said slowly and with emphasis. “I just want to help you. You should try putting yourself in my shoes.” She gave a gentle smile. “They aren’t chucks, but…”

The Doctor attempted to smile back, despite knowing that it looked more like a grimace. “You’re right. Of course, you’re right.” He looked at her. “Donna Noble, my rock, my North Star, my guide through the storm.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Donna said softly. “You’ve got Martha and Jack, and Mum and Gramps, plus however many lives you’ve touched.”

“They’re brilliant,” the Doctor conceded. “They’re all brilliant. But none of them are Donna Noble, my best friend.”

Donna looked like she might have believed him for once, or that she was close to believing him. His hearts warmed, knowing that he was finally reaching her. It was a powerful feeling, to touch a life. It was sacred.

She didn’t deserve to ever feel that she was “just the person that happened to be there.” It was as if the universe itself had manipulated events to put them in each other’s paths. He wouldn’t have gotten through these weeks with his sanity intact without her, and he was grateful that he had been able to show her some of the things that she was capable of.

A strange feeling started in his core. The burning sensation spread out and branched through his body. It sang through his blood, buzzing and thrumming. He took a deep breath and met her gaze.

“It’s started.”


	18. Vale Decem

Content warning: death, flirting, and swearing

The announcement sent a chill down Donna’s spine. Surely it wasn’t what she thought.

“What’s started? Doctor?”

He was already shoving aside his blankets and the pad. The Doctor took a deep inhale and stood. He only faltered once, standing at attention. The wheelchair stood forgotten behind him, looking like it had belonged to someone else now.

“Donna, I’ve got something for you.” He dug into his robe pockets and shoved a metal object into her hands. It was still warm from being under all of the covers.

“What’s this?” She only spared it a glance before her gaze was drawn back to her friend.

The Doctor’s breathing stuttered and then something started happening to his appearance. Right before her eyes, his skin filled out, ballooning forth and faintly glowing.

“Ah!” He twisted his head around as if in the throes of pain. Then he shook himself. He gave a soft cough to clear his throat. A golden wisp of light escaped.

Donna watched, frozen at the spectacle. “What the hell is that?”

Her stomach was twisting into knots. He hadn’t told her in detail what regeneration looked like, and she didn’t want to face the possibility that it was happening now. But, as his face morphed into something of its former appearance, she realized that his body was healing itself. Before her eyes, colour returned to his cheeks and his shadowed eyes brightened and regained their usual luster. The lines of depression and pain melted away from his features. Donna backed away, sensing that something was going on that she didn’t want to get too close to. The alien body before her had never seemed so foreign in biology to her.

She saw her friend come to the surface of his former avatar. When the Doctor met her shocked gaze, he looked like he felt older than ever. He smiled and stretched his limbs a bit.

“Ah, it’s good to be back. However briefly.” He took a step forward and clasped Donna’s hands over the metal object. “Donna, I have to be going.”

He smiled and his eyes sparkled. He hiccupped and more light particles escaped.

“Oh, frog in the throat. Funny saying, that. Anyway, right now I have to be with the TARDIS. She’s my next of kin, knows how to protect me during this. I have to get this over with. This machine-” He jiggled her hand over the device. “This should help.”

“What?” Donna was dumbfounded. “No, Doctor!” He had already taken two steps away from her. “Don’t go,” she begged.

She couldn’t understand everything that was going on, but she knew that he had a goodbye waiting in store for her.

“Donna, I have to,” he said urgently. “I wouldn’t ask if I had any other choice. This regeneration cycle is going to be a dangerous one. I can feel it. Might even decommission the TARDIS for a bit. She’ll have to keep me contained.”

A tiny whimper escaped through his smiling veneer. That was all Donna needed before she came after him and wrapped him up in a lingering hug. The Doctor let her cling on, rubbing her back soothingly. He surprised her by kissing the top of her head.

“Thank you, Donna. If I don’t- Just thank you.”

“No, please!” Donna’s voice wobbled. She had a terrible feeling that she wasn’t going to be seeing much of him, any him, in the future.

“Donna.” He gently pried her away from him to look deeply into her eyes. “You have a whole life ahead of you, a whole future. I’m just a piece of the puzzle, always have been. I’ve seen the way you look at families, at how you smile at their children.” His gaze softened. “You always wanted more than what me and the TARDIS could give you.”

Donna choked. “That’s not true,” she denied. A tear escaped from the corner of her eye as she lied.

How had he known? She hadn’t even admitted it to herself in so many words before. She still wasn’t sure if she could.

He held her briefly for what felt like the last time, squeezing her tightly. “Goodbye.”

He backed away quickly and started sprinting off towards the TARDIS. Donna stood there for a stunned moment before she went after him. She heard her mum following her and asking what was going on. Donna couldn’t catch up, watching with horror as the TARDIS door slammed shut. She stood in the front doorway of the house, yelling at her best mate, her Doctor, doing something foolish all by himself.

After he had vanished, she broke down weeping. She barely registered her mum hugging her. That stupid sod. That stupid heroic friend. The universe better take care of him or there would be hell to pay.

* * *

The Doctor darted around the controls, energy zipping through him, his blood vessels expanding and morphing. He had never felt so alive. He giggled as the TARDIS lurched. He stroked a console. “Didn’t mean to be short with you earlier, darling.”

She expressed her forgiveness and buzzed that he was forgetting to take care of something very very important. As the TARDIS destabilized, there was a crash and several bangs.

“Oh fuck!”

The explicate echoed down the corridors from within the depths of the TARDIS.

“I haven’t forgotten,” he chided his ship briefly. “I’ll get him.”

* * *

The Doctor gave Jack a choice, stay here and remain a companion, or roam free and return periodically to Cardiff like he had been doing. In true 51st Century style, Jack chose to explore on his own.

“No offense, Doctor, but I’ve outgrown guided tours of the universe. For now at least.” Jack’s eyes roved over his revitalized form. The Doctor straightened his tie that he had recently adorned, along with his old suit. “Not that it wouldn’t be tempting to show you a good time and get to see the new you.”

“Told you, drink first.” The Doctor’s grin was wolfish. “But right now I have things to do and a reward to collect. I do have the perfect place, or person, in mind for you to meet.”

Jack expression lit up. “Oh really? You intrigue me.”

When the Doctor brought him to a pub and gave him an interstellar microchip to fund his trips and amenities, Jack started to display some nerves. He was overly flirtatious in a sloppy way. The Doctor helpfully turned his attentions in another direction.

“His name is Alonso,” he whispered in Jack’s ear.

He tilted his head in the direction of a man in a Naval uniform. He waggled his eyebrows meaningfully, stepping out of the way of a large Judoon with a drink in hand.

“I’ll see you around,” Jack said. His eyes turned solemn.

“Jack.” The Doctor’s tone was heavy. “Thank you-”

Before he could finish, Jack was already wrapping him up in a bone-crushing hug. “Go see that red-head and her family first thing you do, okay? She needs you yet. Well, time to go.” Jack gave him a perky salute.

The Doctor returned the salute without hesitation. He walked away while Jack started chatting up Alonso.

* * *

He obtained a small mallet to take care of the Sontaran that was doggedly pursuing Martha and Mickey. He watched them both, giving them a long look. Martha’s expression showed delight at seeing his body appear so well. When his somber features revealed nothing of his emotions, Martha’s expression started to crumple. She understood. Mickey wrapped her up in a hug. The Doctor saluted them both.

* * *

A careless Luke was snatched out of danger. The Doctor reminded him to look both ways before crossing the street. He gave his dear Sarah Jane a wave.

* * *

The Doctor went to a bookstore to purchase a “fictional” copy of Journal of Impossible Things. He asked if she had been happy in the end. He didn’t answer when he was asked the same question.

* * *

As tempting as it was to jump back into Donna’s timeline, he refrained. He still had hope.

* * *

He wheezed, golden regeneration particles escaping.

“Not yet,” he reprimanded his body. “You’ve waited this long. Just let me have this. Just let me see her.”

And so, he went back to see a special someone, at a time when he hadn’t met her yet. As they exchanged pleasantries, she assumed that he was inebriated. He wished her a Happy New Year.

“I bet you’re going to have a really great year,” he told her. He had the advantage of appearing to be a friendly sloshed stranger.

“Yeah?” Rose said shyly. She gave him one last glance. “See ya.”

Then like that, his reward had been obtained. After Rose had disappeared, his body crumpled in on itself. Energy was bubbling up and fizzing inside of him like agitated carbonation. His cells were on the verge of morphing completely. He staggered around, fighting more, just so that he could take one last look around.

Musical notes caught his attention and he dragged his gaze up slowly to see an Ood. His TARDIS was calling too. They would sing to him, sing him to his sleep.

The TARDIS started translating the Ood song to him, using Latin- gorgeous language. All languages were so beautiful to him, so full of life and idiosyncrasies. It gave him the strength he needed to rise to his feet. The TARDIS’s hum sank deep into his bones as he began to approach her.

He gritted his teeth and opened her door. He shed his coat, listening to their song as they thanked him and wished him peace. They wanted him to lay down his burden and heavy memories. He got the TARDIS into orbit over Earth again. It was just in time. Golden energy was expelled through his hands. His hearts seized in trepidation of what was to come.

“I’m too scared to go,” he confessed quietly to the TARDIS.

His old friend, his dearest companion, gently caught his mind up in her grip. She assured the Doctor that she had him and he had her. She delicately plucked away at his resistance.

Energy overrode his mental and physical form at the cracks. He combusted at the seams. His life force thundered out of him like a great flood, filling the TARDIS up with light and heat. The TARDIS sparked and hissed, wounded physical form crying out briefly as she started to transform along with her symbiotic life form.

Then, things began to quiet down as more debris collapsed and disintegrated. The destruction eventually stilled and something was left in its wake.


	19. A Soft Goodbye

* * *

  
A scream echoed through the TARDIS. It was not unlike the reflexive cry of a newborn human being. The Doctor shuffled on the spot, hearts pumping and limbs trembling. His body still felt like it was burning, but everything else was new.

He looked down and grabbed at what he was standing on. “Legs! I’ve still got legs!”

Very strong legs, he thought, as he lifted and kissed his kneecap. No more lingering in bed and watching his muscles waste away. He quickly took stock of all of his other features. He pulled down at a lock of hair.

“I’m still not ginger!”

What was it with this body getting stuck in a pattern? He tried to remember something tickling at his mind. He was missing something important.

He laughed with delight when he realized that his reforming TARDIS was crashing. They were going to be alright, more than alright. Brilliant! Somehow, that word didn’t fit quite so well as it used to. So, he used a new word to describe his elation at this adventure.

“Geronimo!”

* * *

Fishfingers and custard were apparently just perfect for getting over regeneration sickness. It had taken a lot of trial and error to arrive at that conclusion. He might have bossed around a young child as he fumbled through the physical symptoms.

He left a young Amelia Pond to go see Donna Noble, a not Scottish red head. Maybe Donna would like to travel with him again too along with Amelia. He went to go find her and ended up coming up with an address. He smiled. He had left her a substantial sum to get her life off of the ground and do what she liked. Investment companies...lovely little things...all you needed was time and money.

Wilfred and Sylvia were still living of course, but he would visit them later. First, Donna!

He found her in a nice house in proper suburbia. There were doors, windows, the works. He saw her stirring up something within a bowl. Her hair was tied back and she seemed to be smiling frequently. The Doctor crept around to the front of the house and rang the doorbell.

“Coming!”

He fidgeted a bit.

When Donna opened the door, she blinked at him without recognition. “Oh, hullo!”

There was an awkward pause and the Doctor tilted his head, looking into her eyes.

“What-?” Her mouth hung open and she ceased to breathe. The Doctor found himself becoming concerned for her oxygen levels if she didn’t snap out of it.

“Donna?”

She finally inhaled and shook her head. “Oh, I could kill you. I could really murder you.”

Despite her words, she wrapped him up in a hug. There was a squelching noise.

“I don’t even care that you’re drenched, I’m furious.” She carried on speaking in a quavering voice. “I’m fed up. You- you-”

He very gingerly, as if he was petting a ferocious bear, rubbed her back.

“I’m still going to kill you,” she said more calmly. Her voice sounded very wet.

“I know,” he hummed. He kissed the top of her head like his former self had.

They stood there for a moment, with her squeezing him like he might drift away and vanish if she let go.

“You might as well come in,” Donna said, not budging an inch.

The Doctor considered the situation. “Right. That might involve some gymnastics on our parts if we’re not letting go of each other. I’d offer to be the one to carry if my muscles weren’t still reforming. They’ll be unreliable for a few hours. Still not fully regenerated.”

Donna pulled back and surveyed him. “Good God, how long does it take? Are you seriously saying that you’ve been regenerating for two years?”

“Has it been two years?” The Doctor stood awkwardly on the stoop. “Might have overshot a bit.”

Donna sighed at him in that familiar way. “Still not better at keeping time, I see. I can’t believe that it’s really you. You look so young.” She finally opened the door.

“Still nine hundred and some, I think.” The Doctor grinned and followed her inside.

He was pleased to note all of the little touches of her, including some souvenirs from their travel. There were also plenty of pictures of her and Shaun. He smiled and picked a picture frame up. She was beaming and she had a relaxed posture. He glanced down at current-Donna’s hand and saw the ring.

“Is he nice?”

“Shaun? Yeah, he’s really good. I- I have to tell you something,” she began hesitantly.

He turned his complete attention towards her, setting down the frame. She was twisting her hands about, but she looked happy.

“Shaun and I are going to adopt.”

The Doctor gave her his heartfelt congratulations, grinning like a madman. “Photographs! You’re going to have to take lots of photographs!”

While he was absolutely thrilled that she was getting all that she wanted, his hearts were sinking, knowing that traveling with her was well and truly off the table. She would want to be a good Mum, meaning no risky choices or life-threatening adventures.

“Only if you come around enough for us to show you the photographs,” Donna told him.

His eyes widened as realization dawned. “Oh! My goodbye present has a camera function. I was wondering why I wasn’t getting any pictures. I thought that the TARDIS’s database was scrambled after crashing. The device I gave you has a direct link to the TARDIS. Was a bit tricky to program, but I _am_ a genius.”

The Doctor puffed himself up at his ingenuity.

“Wait, the TARDIS crashed?” Donna’s jaw went slack.

He waved a hand. “She’s fine. She reforms too with my late-life regenerations. Not a scratch on her. You at least got my goodbye message?” He glanced around at her house. It bordered on posh. “You used the accounts I gave you? I’ve forgotten what funds humans can make in two years.”

She rolled her eyes at him. “Of course I got your message. I hope you don’t mind that we used a fair amount to afford this place. We’re going to pay you back. We have an account set up and it’s slow going, but we’ll eventually have the money.”

“It’s yours. Consider it a present for all of the birthdays and holidays I missed. See? Can’t say that I missed those now.”

She sighed again, looking a mixture of exasperated and affectionate. “It’s really you, isn’t it?”

He crossed his arms, frowning. “Of course it’s me! I thought we established that. Honestly, is this what new parents are like, always forgetting things? I...”

She wrapped the indignant and still-drenched Doctor up in another hug.

* * *

After he had donned his tweed suit and saved the Earth from another invasion, he found himself missing the presence of someone. Amy was with him of course, but she was fast asleep at the moment. Humans. He smiled with a bit of his old fondness.

Well, he knew of one human that was still up...

He parked his TARDIS near the top of a green hill. He walked up on foot, wanting to really appreciate the time it took to get to the top. There had been an elderly human who had been climbing it with his chair and his telescope for a couple of years.

“Doctor! Doctor, is that you?”

There had been more hugging. There had been a lot of that lately, but the Doctor was hardly going to complain.

“It’s good to see you looking so well. Donna said that you were different. I’m just thrilled that you’re better. We were scared to death for you.”

The Doctor blinked rapidly at the admission. Sylvia was drawn out of the house by all of the shouting and Wilfred telling his stories. There had been a semi-awkward greeting and a scold for leaving without a proper goodbye, but he had been invited to stay for a while.

“I’ve had enough of sitting around. I have things to do and places to see. There’s whole galaxies out there just waiting to be discovered.”

To be honest, he was just tickled to be given another chance. He would enjoy things as he saved the universe. He had before, but now, he had incentive. He had a new companion and new photographs to take from the TARDIS for Donna. (And you thought he hadn’t installed a two-way camera function...)

He might as well cherish the time that he had. There was always something new out there to experience.

The End.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: And we made it! I made a right mess of canon for my own devices, but that’s nothing new. Writing this fic certainly helped with making things better. I left a lot out, but I enjoyed fluffing things up immensely. Thanks for coming along on this ride. 
> 
> <3
> 
> Best wishes.


End file.
